


Pear Shaped

by Minx_DeLovely



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Angel is a huge creep, Angel is the bad guy, F/M, Justice for Cordelia, Season Rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 40
Words: 63,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25928392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minx_DeLovely/pseuds/Minx_DeLovely
Summary: What if Cordelia used her magic to keep Wesley from kidnapping Angel's son, and subsequently they fell in love? This story re-imagines the last two seasons of Angel.
Relationships: Angel & Cordelia Chase, Cordelia Chase/Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Winifred "Fred" Burkle/Charles Gunn, Winifred "Fred" Burkle/Wesley Wyndam-Pryce
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

Wesley had been talking himself into making a mistake for the past hour when his mobile rang. Lila sat across from him as lovely, sharp and poisonous as belladonna, reminding him that she was the only person who’d visited him since he got out of hospital. Even his parents hadn’t done so much as send a card, not that he’d expected that of his father, but his mother had been cowed into silence as well. As Lila enjoyed reminding him, he was completely alone. She was so cold but he knew she’d at least feel warm for a little while.

When he saw the person calling, he nearly dropped the phone. He ducked away from Lila’s table and hid in the washroom of the bar to answer.

“Cordelia?”

“Hey, how are you?” Her voice was suffused with forced cheer.

“What is this about? Are you in danger?”

“No more than usual.”

“Then why are you calling me?”

“I miss you, Wes.”

His stomach twisted unbearably. Hearing something good had never physically hurt before. He stooped over, his hand on his belly, her breath on the other side of the line.

“Wes?”

“I’m here.” He almost shouted into the phone, then said softly, “I’ve missed you, too.”

“I’m still mad at you with the betrayal and everything, but I was thinking we should at least talk. I’ve heard your reasons, but I never heard them from you.”

“Of course. Are you home?”

“Just me and Phantom Dennis.”

“I’ll be right over.”

**

Cordelia paced, thinking of what she’d say to him when he got there. She was angry that he hadn’t called her before he went commando kidnapper, but she understood how he could think the prophecy was real. Angel was probably the love of her life but she’d seen him at his worst and his worst was THE WORST.

The knock startled her even though she’d been on edge waiting for it. She ran over and opened the door, poised to begin her lecture about friendship and trust. It died on her lips the moment she saw the red scar twisting along Wesley’s throat. She touched the ragged mark and all of the anguish he’d been feeling flooded her mind-the anxiety when he read the prophecy, the mounting fear, the sickness in his heart when he hit Lorne and above all the searing pain of the blade. He’d laid there alone on the ground after Justine slashed his throat, his life ebbing away for what felt like an eternity.

“Wes. Oh my god.” Tears glossed her eyes and she couldn’t stop them from falling. He stepped inside her apartment and closed the door behind him a look of understanding on his face. It seemed he could feel it too--this transfer of pain and memory.

“It’s alright, Cordi.” He put his arms around her, trying to comfort her even though he was the one who’d been through hell. She held him tightly around his skinny waist.

“No, it’s not. I feel everything you feel. You can’t lie to me.” She tilted her head up to look at his face. He smiled down at her.

“Then you know how much this means to me.”

“I’m going to kiss you now, because the Powers That Be are telling me to.”

“I’m completely fine with that.”

“But I don’t want you to take it the wrong way. I’m only doing this because I think your life might depend on it.” She wound her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. It went very different than their first kiss. He made a sound like a sob and held her so hard it felt like he was less hugging and more crushing her. She didn’t care. For an obligatory, powers-mandated kiss, it was more than a little magic.

Golden light emanated from inside of her. Cordi didn’t know how she could KNOW that, but she did. The warmth and incandescence felt like it was pouring out of her. The glow enveloped Wesley, too. Together they sank into the feeling and the world fell away. She felt like a speck of dust floating in a sunbeam.

The sound of a baby crying brought them back down to earth.

“Huh. If this isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something seeing as I work here.”

“Lorne?” Cordi opened her eyes to see Lorne staring at them, his hands on his hips. They stood in the Hyperion lobby. She looked up at Wesley. Tears coasted down his cheeks, but he smiled when he noticed her looking at him. Though they disentangled, she felt compelled to keep holding his hand.

“You two appeared out of nowhere. One second empty room, the next POOF, uncomfortable PDA. Where is the Groosalogg?”

“Um, we broke up.”

“Clearly.”

“This isn’t...this was a spell, Lorne. Cordelia was helping me with a spell.”

The crying had gotten too loud to ignore. Lorne went over to the bassinet and picked up Connor. Sweet, tiny baby Connor, not the androgynous teenage Connor who wanted to kill his dad. Wesley laughed out loud at the sight of him and clapped his hands together. Cordelia couldn’t help crying even harder.

“Oh Connor, beautiful little Connor!” She grabbed the infant out of Lorne’s hands. Wesley wrapped his arm around both of them.

“What?” Lorne asked, uncharacteristically laconic.

“You and Lorne take Connor. Hide upstairs in one of the bedrooms. I’ll tell the others.” He kissed her forehead. Warmth poured down her from the spot, like being drizzled in warm maple syrup. She gazed up at him with a too-broad smile. He grinned drunkenly down at her.

“That must have been one hell of a spell, kitten,” Lorne said, his brow arched skeptically.

“It was,” Wesley said as he stepped toward Lorne. When he was close enough, Wesley swept Lorne into his arms. He dipped Lorne deeply and planted a kiss on his lips that went on a few seconds too long. Gently, Wesley righted the demon.

“Go with Cordelia,” Wesley patted Lorne’s arm.

Lorne just stared at him for a second. “Um?”

Cordelia tugged Lorne by the hand, but the big green guy was reluctant to leave. Finally she got him to move.

“What the hell just happened?” Lorne asked.

“I think I just saved the day.”

**

Angel killed Holtz in the ensuing melee without even waking Connor, who slept untroubled throughout the battle raging downstairs. Wesley rooted out and imprisoned the demon responsible for setting the kidnapping attempt up. Everyone was safe, happy and none the wiser that the group had once been painfully splintered by a desperate, ill-considered act.


	2. Chapter 2

A few days passed before Wesley and Cordelia had a moment alone together. 

Cordelia sat at her desk, a dusty book in her lap. Not a demonology, research-type book. She was rereading “The Berlin Stories,” by Christopher Isherwood. Her dad had taken her to see Cabaret when she was fourteen and it had inspired her to buy a copy of the source material.

She felt Wes near her before he even tapped her shoulder. It had been like that since they’d kissed; she could look up and immediately know where he stood in the room. When he brushed past her, she could feel an echo of the warmth that had embraced them. Cordi knew Wes had stayed behind while the others went out for drinks and honestly she’d opted to reread her book, just so he’d finally have the nerve to come to her. 

She looked up with a grin.

“Wes.”  
“Hi.” He smiled down at her. “Do you feel as though there’s something unfinished between us?”  
“Yeah, I didn’t know how to say it.” She closed her book. “Do you want to talk?”  
“May I take you to dinner? It’s paltry in comparison to what you’ve done for me but I feel I at least owe you a free meal.”  
“You had me at free even before you added meal.”  
He helped her to her feet and she didn’t relinquish his hand; they kept holding hands as they walked to his car. It just felt right, even though she knew it was wrong--this was textbook leading a guy on; kissing, hand holding, goopy glances that seemed to linger on forever. Even though he made her stomach flutter just like he had in high school, that didn’t mean she shouldn’t nip all those inconvenient feelings in the bud, no matter how wonderful they felt. Right?

They settled into his car.  
“Where would you like to eat?”  
“Well, I’m kinda dressed for drive through, so I’m thinking casual dining.”  
His eyes swept over her. “Nonsense. You always look nice. Besides you have on a satin skirt. I’m the one wearing jeans. Perhaps I should change.”

“If you’re going to put on your David Byrne ‘Stop Making Sense Suit,’ then I like you better like this.”

To her surprise, he laughed out loud.

“Why did no one tell me I looked ridiculous? I saw a picture of myself recently and it looked like the shoulder pads were going to eat my head.”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “You’re English. I thought maybe it was the style back home.”

They decided on a little bistro near Wesley’s apartment that served vegan fare, not that she was vegan, but at least she was sure they would have food that wasn’t fried. After they’d been seated and their orders had been taken, Cordi suddenly felt nervous. The way he looked at her made Cordi feel like he could scroll through her thoughts.  
“So,” she said.  
“So-”  
He was about to speak when she interrupted him.  
“Is this a date? Because if it is there’s something I should tell you.”  
“It isn’t, but I think you ought to tell me anyway.” He steepled his fingers under his chin. The intensity of his stare almost made her lose her nerve, and that was so unlike her. She was all nerve.  
“The reason Groo and I broke up is because he realized, and then I realized--I’m in love with Angel. I don’t want to hurt you like I hurt Groo.”  
“It’s alright, Cordelia. To be honest, I still have feelings for Fred that not even her complete abandonment could dissuade.”  
“And she’s in love with Gunn.”  
“Yes. That too,” he said, irritation giving his voice a slight buzz, “Have you told Angel?”  
“No. That whole losing his soul and becoming ultimate evil thing made the subject seem moot.”  
“Come now, what are the chances of you two finding perfect happiness? 99.9 percent of relationships throughout history have had to make do with acceptable happiness.”  
“Okay, I’m going to try not to be offended--”  
“Offended?”  
“Oh yeah. Let me put it this way. When I kissed you in a loving, albeit totally platonic way, how did that make you feel?”  
He smiled and tucked his chin into his chest. “Perfect. I would give anything to feel that complete again.”  
“See, and I didn’t even use my tongue. Imagine if I was crazy about you, ready to do anything you ever dreamed about?”  
He took a sip of water, choked on it and took another sip. “Um. Perhaps you could look into finding a prophylactic enchantment similar to the one you used with Grooselogg?”  
“Angel’s kind of the only one with his curse so there’s not really a market. Believe me, I asked around.”  
“Perhaps a distraction during the act.”  
“What like a juggler?”  
“Not quite.” Wesley stifled a laugh. “Once I dated a girl who insisted on using nipple clamps on me every time. It got to the point where they were all I could think about because I dreaded them so much.”  
“Nipple whats?” She could guess, but she wasn’t sure. The thought made her feel kind of squirmy. Not grossed-out squirmy; more jealous and curious squirmy.  
The waitress chose that instant to set their drinks in front of them. After a cursory nod from Wesley, she left. Cordelia took a huge gulp of her strawberry margarita. He continued speaking in a quiet voice.  
“I would have thought you were familiar with that sort of thing.”  
“Why?” she asked, wondering if she should be insulted.  
“Because you’re an adult.”  
“Oh.” She stirred the slush around in her drink with the straw.”I haven’t really...most of the guys I’ve been with were kind of vanilla. Okay, that’s not really true. There was that guy who bought me about twenty pairs of designer heels so he could see me walking in them. I thought he was just generous until I caught him in my closet getting freaky with my Jimmy Choos.”  
“Sounds traumatic,” he grimaced.  
“It was.”  
“From the time I’ve known you, you haven’t had a long term relationship. That doesn’t lend itself to exploration.”  
“I guess not.” She took another swallow of her margarita. “I’m suddenly feeling kinda exposed.”  
“I’m sorry. What else would you like to talk about?”  
“How old were you when you lost your virginity?”  
He nearly spit out his drink.  
“That was abrupt.” He grinned wolfishly, as though remembering the exact moment he became a man. “Twenty-one.”  
“Were you in love?”  
“No. Eternally grateful to her, but no. In fact, I’ve never been with a woman I loved.”  
“Not even Virginia?”  
“We weren’t together long enough, but I did care for her deeply. What about you?”  
“Xander, but he didn’t love me back. We were already broken up and I’d been saving myself for--maybe not marriage--but a marriageable guy. But then I thought the school was going to get eaten by a giant mayor worm, so I figured, why not do it with a guy I loved.”  
“How was it?”  
“Surprisingly decent considering it happened on the floor of the janitor’s closet. He never called me again, though.”  
“He was a fool.”  
Cordelia’s hand fluttered to her throat, fingers lightly toying with her necklace. “I was different then. Not so much a champion as a spoiled brat. I can see why he didn’t call.”  
“You forget I knew you then, and you’re not giving yourself enough credit. It wasn’t just your short skirts that attracted me back then.”  
“Yeah, I wore tight sweaters, too.”

The waitress returned with their meals, saving Cordelia from the rest of what would probably be an awkward conversation. She picked at her free food, stealing glances at him. This whole crush or mystical attraction or whatever it was had knocked her off her axis.

“Have I offended you?” He reached for her hand across the table. When their fingers touched, she relaxed.

“No. I’m not sure what I’m feeling. I’m attracted to you, but it’s probably not real, is it?”

“Does that matter?”

“It matters. Of course it matters.”

“I love you, Cordelia and you love me. We both want this. We respect one another. That’s more than either of us have ever had.”

Hearing him say he loved her sent a jolt of panic through her. Even though he was right--she did love him of course, but not that way. She looked into his eyes.

“Is that enough for you? I mean, what you feel for Fred and what I feel for Angel is epic, isn’t it?”

“It would be something to keep us warm until they come around.”

“You’re not really selling me.”

“Then think of it this way. I understand your calling in a way few other men could. I know Angel comes first. I would die for you, betray myself, throw away every connection and all I know to protect you. You know I would.”

“I do. I saw into your soul.”

“Then you know I would give it to you, but you’d never be in danger for my having lost it.”

She withdrew her shaking hand from his. Her heart thrummed in her ears. She’d never expected to hear something like that from him, from anyone. Cordelia gathered her purse, avoided his eyes.

“We should go. I don’t want to have the rest of this conversation in public,” she said.

His brows gathered in the middle of his forehead. She could tell he was worried and she couldn’t blame him. Cordelia had no idea what she was going to say to him when they were alone. He threw down some money on the table, at least twice as much as the bill would be. Good tipper. That’s another thing he had over Angel. She felt guilty for even thinking that.

Wesley led her out of the restaurant by the elbow. He opened the car door for her, a gesture that would have impressed her on a normal date but in that moment made her wonder if he thought she would bolt if he let go of her arm. He got into the driver’s side and sat down, keys in the ignition but not starting the car.

She took a deep breath. “If we did this, I wouldn’t want the others to know.”  
“I can live with that. May I ask why?”  
“Because if Angel finds out, I think he’ll be angry at me. Groo is one thing but you’re his best friend. Fred and Gunn would be okay, but Fred can’t keep a secret to save her life. Literally.”  
“He doesn’t own you, Cordelia.”  
“Maybe part of me feels like I’m betraying him.”  
“You’re not. If we can find a way for you to be with him, then this thing between us ends.”  
“Wes--”  
“I mean it.”

She leaned over the center consul and kissed him, softly at first, then deeper. The indefinable restlessness she’d been feeling quieted. This is what she’d been running towards all along. He dragged her into his lap. Golden tendrils of light wrapped around them and she was able to read his thoughts as thought they were written out in her head. The depth of his need was frightening, bottomless. His longing was so intense she wondered if she’d be swallowed in the chasm of his loneliness.

Yet her own desire for him felt just as deep, just as terrifying. She chose not to ignore it any more.

She broke the kiss and reached between them, undoing his zipper.  
“Now?” he asked  
“Now.”  
“I don’t have-”  
“It’s okay.”  
She freed his penis from all the extraneous clothing. He grabbed her hips and guided her down onto his erection.

It was shocking how something frenzied could become peaceful in an instant. He might have said that he would love her enough for the both of them, or it might have been something she only heard in her head. It didn’t matter, because she knew it was absolutely true.


	3. Chapter 3

Six months later…

They hadn’t been discrete lately with their little non-relationship and people were starting to notice. Lorne, who accepted and loved everybody, quite obviously didn’t think Wes was good enough for Cordi. He’d never said anything, but it was conveyed in every withering gesture. Wes was genuinely amused by Lorne’s open contempt. Wes told her he assumed part of Lorne must have remembered getting punched in the face.

Gunn made some knowing comments after he saw them engage in a particularly sensual post-battle hug and Fred noticed that they were always driving in together. Privately Fred told Cordi that if they were dating, then she thought they were cute together. That had been a relief. Cordi finally had someone she could talk to about things with Wes, even though she still posed every quirk as a hypothetical.

“If the guy you were seeing told you not to buy him anything for his birthday, what would you get him? Hopefully under $70.” Cordi asked when she and Fred were polishing and rearranging the weapons.

“Well, if his watch was melted by demon slime, I’d probably get him one of those. I think he’d appreciate a chronograph and engraving is a nice touch.”  
“You’re really good at shopping for my pretend boyfriend.”  
Just then Angel walked into the hotel with Gunn following behind him.  
“What are you two talking about?” Angel asked as he sidled up to them. Gunn walked over to Fred and dropped a kiss on her forehead. Cordelia had a lie ready. She always had a lie ready lately and she hated herself for it.

“It’s Dennis’ birthday and I was just wondering what to get a ghost.”  
“Pornography?” Gunn asked with a shrug. Fred swatted his stomach.

Angel was the one that really mattered and even though he had the creepy smell senses, he just didn’t seem to notice that kind of thing. Even when he walked in on them talking about what to make for dinner, he didn’t seem to get that she and Wesley were a couple.

Not that they were a couple, Cordi reminded herself. She just spent every night at his apartment, he did her laundry, he’d taken her parents out when they were visiting L.A. and she was learning to cook his favorite foods. Oh yeah, and when he thought she was asleep Wesley would whisper, “I love you.”

She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t say it back, why he couldn’t when he was sure she was awake. Even if Angel’s curse was lifted and he was Shanshued into humanity, Cordi knew she wouldn’t want to throw over Wesley. Her reluctance to declare her love from the rooftops--and it was love, there was no denying that--had nothing to do with her loyalty to Angel.

Maybe it was the fact that their hearts weren’t their own to give. They had to help Angel and by extension the whole world, and there was no end to that. Maybe for Wesley there could be, but not for her. She was vision girl.

At that moment though, her vision seemed to swim. The plastic pregnancy test she held in her hand had two blue lines. Two meant she was pregnant.

But that was impossible.

Cordi came out of the bathroom with the stick in her hand. Wesley was still asleep, curled in on his side like a baby cat. She went to the bed and gave his shoulder a poke. He snuffled against the pillow before warily opening his eyes.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He blinked the sleep away.  
“Um. Remember how I said...what the doctor told me after that whole demon pregnancy thing…”  
He sat up, put his glasses on and grabbed her wrist so he could better see the plastic stick in her hand.  
“Could you have gotten a faulty test?”  
“This is the third one, and before you ask, they’re different brands.”  
“Have you felt anything strange lately?”  
“Aside from puking in the mornings and not having a period for two months, no.”  
“Two months? Why didn’t you say something before?”  
“Because since I found out I was sterile that was kind of normal for me. Except maybe I’m not sterile, maybe--”  
She let the words hang, unable to finish her thought.  
“This is our baby,” he said.  
That was the first time she’d thought baby. Our baby, his and mine. She started to tremble. He put his arm around her shoulders, nuzzled her tangled hair.  
“Do you know what you want to do?”  
“No. There’s still a chance something is seriously wrong with me, even if it’s a non-demonic pregnancy.”  
“We’ll deal with that as it comes. Tomorrow you and I will go to the doctor, get the pregnancy confirmed. Perhaps you can get a sonogram.”  
“I’m almost more worried that it’s going to be normal.”  
“If you want to terminate, I support you.”  
“I’m not sure I do. But if I kept it, that would change things for us.”  
He rubbed her back in a soothing way.  
“It would make sense for us to get married from an insurance standpoint.”  
She pulled away from him. If she just heard what she thought she heard, this whole casual relationship farce was going to blow wide open.   
“Hold on, wait a minute. Did you just ask me to marry you?”  
He smiled wryly at her. “I suppose I did.”  
“Could you make that proposal less romantic? Maybe wait until I’m waxing my legs or something?”  
“It was only a suggestion.”  
“No. Okay, I may be a lot of things, but I’m still Cordelia Chase. You don’t casually throw the prospect of marrying me out like you’re talking about consolidating a loan. You get on your knees buddy,” she pointed at his chest so hard it had to hurt a little, “and you get a diamond, and it better be proportional to your regret at asking me like this.”  
“I thought traditionally the question was posed on one knee.” He was trying to keep from laughing and that just made her more angry.  
“Well you’re going to be begging, so I think two is more appropriate.”  
“Begging?” He kissed her earlobe, his breath warm on her skin.”That doesn’t sound so bad.” She couldn’t help closing her eyes and he kissed his way down her neck. “I love you. Everything will be alright,” he whispered.  
“How do you know that?”  
“As long as you’re with me it will be alright.”


	4. Chapter 4

The doctor’s appointment went fine. Cordelia was definitely pregnant, the fetus looked completely normal. She was about two months along, as they’d suspected. The way she put her hand on her stomach made him think she was already considering this their child. He’d done cursory work on demonic influence, of course. Of course he couldn’t just live this moment without viewing it through the lens of the supernatural. None of the beasts they’d come into contact with would have caused her to become pregnant, and the fetus was growing at a normal rate. Amniocentesis would tell them all they needed to know, but he didn’t want to subject Cordi to that if she wasn’t going to go through with it. She still hadn’t decided. She still didn’t know. It had been less than a day and he didn’t want to push her one way or the other, but the thought of starting a little family with her made him unbearably happy. He couldn’t entertain the thought because if she decided not to go through with the pregnancy, it would be crushing.

She decided to spend the night at her apartment so that she could have time alone to think. He agreed it would be a good idea. Part of him longed for a call from Angel, telling him he had to do a spell or better yet, battle a demon. Something physical would be good to take his mind off of the decision that wasn’t his to make.

He sat at his desk in the back office, carving stakes. Someone had to do it and it might as well be him. He notched a cross into the base, just like he’d been taught by his mother. God, his mother would be thrilled to become a grandmother. His father would not believe a woman like Cordelia would ever want him. Sometimes when he looked at her he could hardly believe it himself.

She wasn’t a classic beauty like Fred or adorable like Virginia. Cordi was hot. He didn’t even feel comfortable saying it to her, but it was the only way to describe her. Sometimes he had to touch her just to remind himself she was real. That she wanted him to touch her was greater aphrodisiac than anything he’d ever experienced. There wasn’t any way this would work out between them.

The knife slipped and he nearly lopped off the tip his thumb. He yelped and stuck the bloody digit in his mouth.

Fred poked her head in the door.

“You okay?”  
“I was just being careless, cut my finger.”  
“Let me get the first aid kit.”  
“No! Fred?” He shouted after her but she was already gone.

He felt strange being alone with her now. It wasn’t that he still loved her, at least not in the same way. He no longer felt the dull ache around Fred that began when she’d chosen to start dating Charles and he could almost take joy in her presence again, another gift from Cordelia to add with all the others. The awkwardness stemmed from his inability to talk to her about anything but their work. All other topics veering toward the personal seemed emotionally dangerous. If he let something slip about Cordi, Fred had a way of making it all pour out. Then there would be explanations, jealousies. Everything seemed to be fragile with his girlfriend--she wasn’t his girlfriend of course except that he was completely in love with her, spent all his free time with her and they might be having a baby.

Fred came in the room, just as he was about to work himself into a panic attack. He gripped the sides of his chair and tried to smile at her, but as he caught his reflection in the window he realized it was more of a grimace.

“It must hurt pretty bad. You’re bleeding like crazy.” She took his hand and wrapped his thumb in gauze.

All he wanted to do was get away from her, but she was playing nursemaid. Fred looked up from her work with her big brown eyes. “It’s okay, Wes, I know.”

He had to wonder what she knew--that Cordi was pregnant, that she’d made a decision about the baby, that he was the father of Cordelia’s child or that he’d once believed himself to be in love with Fred. His mouth gaped and he struggled to breathe.

“About you and Cordi dating. I think it’s good for both of you. At first I thought she’d end up with Angel, I mean we all did. Lorne’s still holding out hope but I can see now why you two make sense. You’ve been trying to keep it secret and everything for Angel’s sake because he’s pretty obviously still carrying a torch for her, but I don’t think it will be bad when he finds out. I mean, he needs both of you too much and Cordelia’s visions. Oh my god, Wes, you’re turning kind of blue. I don’t think you knicked an artery but do you want me to call an ambulance?”

His chest started heaving and her already huge eyes got even bigger.

“Please don’t.”

“A paper bag! You need a paper bag.”

“It’s fine, Fred.” He put his bandaged hand on her narrow shoulder. “I wasn’t aware that you’d talked to Cordelia about our situation.”

“She hasn’t come out and said it was you, specifically, but it was kinda obvious she was talking about you. She’s still torn about Angel but I can see the way she looks at you. The way she doesn’t look at you.”

“What does that mean?”

“She relaxes the second you get in the room, even when she doesn’t look up, it’s like she knows you’re there. And she has to touch you. She doesn’t think anybody notices but it’s kind of a game with me and Charles now, to see how long it takes her to make her way over to you. The longest we counted was thirty seconds.”

“I never noticed.”

“Really? Because the way you stare at her when you think nobody’s looking, I’d assume you noticed everything about her.”

“I’m terrified I’m going to lose her,” he said, so softly he wondered Fred could even hear him.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t deserve her. I’m not a hero like she is. I’m only doing what I’ve been trained to do.”

“So, deserve her.” Fred shook her head a little and fixed him with that baffled stare that never failed to make him smile. “Women aren’t super-turned on by entitlement, so feeling like you need to do something to stay in her good graces is actually a positive thing.”

Wesley grinned at Fred.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. What did I do?”

“You helped me make up my mind.”


	5. Chapter 5

Wesley knew what it would take to dazzle Cordelia. Even though her priorities had shifted since her callow youth, part of her would always bend toward ostentatious wealth. It was ingrained. The diamond he chose would cover her ring finger from knuckle to knuckle. Initially he’d gravitated toward the white round cut because it was the ideal way to show off the stone. Perfect, like her. But then he knew it had to be pear-shaped, just like their plans. He laughed out loud at that. The clerk showing him rings gave him on odd look. Wesley didn’t care. The stone was canary yellow, the same color as her glow and wreathed in white diamonds. He handed over all the money his grandmother left him. The clerk’s words caught in his throat when he realized Wesley was paying in cash.

He put the black velvet box in his pocket, still uncertain how to pose the question and whether or not she would even say yes. Something public would be gauche and inappropriate to their circumstances. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel pressure to say yes in order to save his pride. He drove to her apartment. The lights were still on, she was still awake.

He walked to her door and knocked. It was the only thing to do.

Cordi answered a few seconds later without make-up, in her pink pajamas with the flying pigs on them. Her eyes were red from crying.

“Wes, I thought we decided on the space thing.”  
“We did, and I’ll go after I say my piece. May I come in?”

She took a step back allowing him to pass by her. As he walked in, she put her hand on his back. It reminded him of what Fred told him, and he felt reassured. Dennis closed the door. Wesley took both of her hands in his and led her over to the couch.

“Please sit down.”

She arched a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Okay.” She sank onto the couch. He knelt in front of her, on both knees. Her expression changed, and she knew what he was about to do. He took the box out and put it in her hands.

“Whatever you decide, I would like you to be my wife. I wanted to ask now so you wouldn’t think anything else had dictated the question. You are the hero of my life. I want to spend the rest of my days trying to deserve you.”

Tears poured down her cheeks. “Wes, I,” she opened the lid of the box and it seemed to sober her instantly, “Holy crap! You’ve been holding out on me!” She took the ring out and slid it on the third finger of her left hand. “This is a real diamond? Not one of those cubic zirconias from QVC?”

“I assure you, it is real. My bank statement can attest.”

She gazed at it adoringly, her fingers splayed. “This doesn’t leave much for a reception, but that’s okay. Better to go to the courthouse and do it fast, while I can still fit into something slinky.”

“Does that mean yes?”

She laughed and threw her arms around him. “Yes. Emphatically yes to everything.”


	6. Chapter 6

Telling everyone would be the hard part. Telling everyone and finding the right dress. Cordi had dreamed of her wedding day since she first watched Cinderella. Even if they couldn’t have a pumpkin coach or a castle, she wanted to at least wear something pretty.

On the plus side, who really needed gross mice helping you get dressed when you had a nimble-fingered ghost? She and Wes hadn’t had the apartment discussion yet, but obviously they’d be moving in together. Her place had more room and the thought of abandoning Dennis made her want to cry, so she was fairly sure Wes would cave. That would save them a bundle with only one rent. Unless Angel fired them both in a snit. Better not to think of all that.

Her best friend since childhood was a murderous vampire and the other Cordettes had been scattered to the wind after graduation. Fred would hopefully want to help her pick a gown. Fred had been so sweet about everything so far and they had a good track record of co-shopping. This time she wouldn’t have to return the dress.

When Cordi got to work, Fred was already bent over the desk, the phone cradled against her shoulder.

“So you’re sure it’s her? Why would your--oh. Zombies. I’ll send someone over right away, you just keep your chainsaw handy. Okey dokey.” Fred hung up the phone. “Where’s Wesley? And before you pretend you have no idea, I already know you’re secret lovers. We have a zombie problem that trumps all your relationship stuff.”

Cordelia held up her left hand.

“He’s getting a few things together for our wedding.”

Fred screamed and jumped up and down, a huge grin on her face.

“Oh my god!”

“I was hoping you’d be my maid of honor.”

Fred squealed

“I thought I missed my chance at ever being in a wedding, except my own, of course, because my best friend Lizzy married my other best friend Tater when I was in Pylea and everybody else I grew up with was married before I finished undergrad! We marry young in Texas. Oh, but we have zombies in La Brea and Angel and Gunn are already out on another call.”

Cordi went over to the weapons cabinet and picked up her crossbow.

“Please honey, I’m from Sunnydale. I can handle zombies in my sleep. Then after, we can go dress shopping. I’m thinking knee length, white lace. Maybe gloves?” Cordi asked with a shrug.

“Ooh, gloves are classic!” Fred selected her favorite axe and slung it over her shoulder. “Are you going to go with a finger tip veil? I think you could pull that off and it will look great in pictures.”

As they walked out, neither of them noticed Angel standing on the balcony. He’d stayed behind when Gunn left because Connor’s nanny was going to be late. When he heard the gist of the phone call from Connor’s room, he came down to tell Fred he’d go take care of the zombies while she watched the baby. But then Cordelia came in, showing off that ring. That ring could be seen from space. Her blood chemistry had been different and he finally made the connection. Cordi was pregnant. She was getting married. Not by or to him.

He looked into Connor’s sweet, sleepy face. “Wesley and Cordi are dating?”


	7. Chapter 7

Wesley was surprised to find the hotel empty, especially because Cordelia’s car was parked outside. Even as he made a cursory search of the lobby he had his phone out, her number dialed. She picked up just before it was about to go to voice mail.

“Could I call you right back?”

He could hear a woman screaming and Fred chanting something in Arabic in the background.

“Certainly, may I be of assist--” She hung up.“ance?”

He stared at the screen for a few seconds, as if that could bring her voice back. Wesley went to his desk, looked over his notes, wished desperately he knew where she was. Perhaps two minutes went by when she rang back.

“Are you alright, darling?”

“Ooh, the darling is nice, but this is Fred. Cordi’s--”

“Is she all right?”

“She’s fine, she’s just dismembering a corpse. We had to kill it. I mean, not really ‘cause it was dead when we got here, but still animated. You know the drill. She wanted me to tell you she’s fine. We’re going to make a few wedding-related stops after this.”

“As long as you’re both safe.”

“Safe as houses, isn’t that what you say? Oops, gotta go. Its hand is getting away.”

She hung up before he could get in another word. Wesley stood in front of his desk for a moment, trying to bring his breathing back to normal. His heartbeat was just beginning to slow when he felt a presence directly behind him.

“Why didn’t you tell me about you and Cordi?” Angel’s voice made the fine hairs of his neck stand on end. Wesley turned around, trying not to appear startled.

“Until a few days ago there was nothing to tell.”

“She’s pregnant, that doesn’t happen overnight. I mean it did that one time, but you know, that was because of demon interference. You didn’t convince her to do this by pledging fealty to some demon, did you?”

“Is that a serious question?”

“No.” Angel slumped into Wesley’s chair, his legs splayed. “I don’t know.”

“She loves me, she did before we even started this relationship, and I’ve loved her, too.”

“I wouldn’t say she loved you,” Angel shrugged, a bit too aggressively, “solid affection, maybe.”

“Perhaps you wouldn’t, but she would.”

“Look, was this a one night stand? Because neither of you should rush into anything.”

“I asked her to be my wife. She agreed. This is happening, Angel. I hope you’ll be on board.”

“Of course I will, but, how long? How long have you two been going behind my back?”

“We weren’t going behind your back.”

Angel wasn’t even looking at him, his dark eyes were fixed on the ceiling. He wore a bemused smile that was so much more intimidating than his cautious scowl.

“Who’s idea was it not to tell me? Cordelia’s, I’m betting. Do you think it bodes well for your relationship that she didn’t want any of her friends to know you were with her, because I don’t. It sounds to me like you’re a placeholder, Wes.” Angel leveled him with a gaze. Funny how he knew so much even though he’d been privy to so little. The truth must have been obvious to everyone.

“We started out that way. Then she came to appreciate what I had to offer.”

“A warm body to lie next to? You think that’s going to be enough for someone as extraordinary as Cordelia? She’s a goddess.”

“And you’re a demon, which makes you no closer to her that I am. If anything, you’re even further away.”

“She’s the only one who’s seen Angelus first hand and she still loves me. We both know you could never make her feel the way I do. Not to brag, but I’ve been around for two-hundred years, I’ve got super strength and I don’t have to come up for air.”

“But when I’m inside her she’s never afraid I’ll tear her throat out. Could you say the same?”

Angel’s smirk fell, and his eyes got that distant dead look which told Wesley his friend was reliving past sins. For a moment he regretted his bluntness, but it had been the only way to shut down and redirect the conversation. He continued speaking, gently.

“You are an exceptional individual in every single way. It must be galling that you can’t give her what someone as ordinary as me can give, but there’s no reason to punish her for it. Cordelia would want your blessing.”

Angel sighed. “What about you, Wes? Do you want my blessing?”

“I want your friendship.”

The two men looked at one another, the interaction spilling into a test of wills. Wesley tried to suppress his irritation. He didn’t enumerate the many reasons Angel had no blessing to give. He had no right over Cordelia by blood, they’d never been lovers and technically he wasn’t even her boss anymore, not that employment had anything to do with it. Cordelia was a grown woman, a free agent and all this was terribly petty and ridiculous. She nurtured their child within her body. They were bound in flesh and bone.

All Angel had were some bruised feelings he’d never formed into proper words, yet here they stood in a primary school staring contest.

Wesley thought of how Angel had tried to smother him after the disaster with Connor. If not for Cordelia, his closest friend would despise him. And perhaps because of her Angel had grown to despise him for another reason. Wesley still felt guilt over the choice he’d made, even though he and Cordelia were the only ones who knew he’d made it. God, and she still loved him, after everything. His secret worst. She was the balm that had turned him into a better man. Perhaps she could even save Angel’s soul. Wesley wondered if Angel thought that, too.

Cordelia was hope and Wesley was whisking her away.

The phone rang. Angel picked it up, postponing their tension for another time.

**  
Cordi’s day had gone really, really well. The zombie had been a cinch to take down, she’d healed the afflicted family’s psychic damage with a quick, glowy hug and the the exact dress she wanted had been on sale. Crinoline, but not in a cheap way, knee length white satin with a cute belt. Fred tried to talk her into a full length veil, but she chose a little hat instead.

She breezed into Wesley’s apartment with the heavy dress bag slung over her shoulder.

“Honey, I’m home and you should see what I got. Well, not for another couple of days, but let me tell you, the suspense should be killing you.”

“That’s not what I said!” Wesley shouted from the other room.

She’d rarely heard him raise his voice before and it was clear he hadn’t been talking to her. All of his feelings came seeping in at once, washing out her good mood. She and Wes had that emotionally permeable membrane thing going now, for better or worse.

The smile froze on her face. She went into the living room and saw him sitting hunched at his desk with his back to her, the phone pressed to his ear.

“For once I wish you’d simply listen to me. Yes, that’s...it’s irrelevant father. You don’t know her. You don’t know a thing about her. That’s fine. If you ever want to have access to your grandchild, then you’ll refrain from speaking of my wife that way. Well, in that case, tell mother I’ll see her at your funeral. Good bye.”

She tiptoed up to him and placed an open palm on his bowed back. “Wes, are you okay?”  
He didn’t look up at her.

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know your parents aren’t coming to the wedding. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He rose from his seated position. “What’s this?” He reached for the garment bag in her hand. She held it at arm’s length.

“Ah, ah, no lookie. Not until the big day.”

“Yes, we wouldn’t want any bad luck.”

The chilly way he said it and the blank look on his face snuffed out all remains of her joy. Haughtily, she went into his bedroom to hang up her gown in the closet.

She had to shove his suits to the side to make sure the skirt didn’t get crushed and she made sure to put a little extra oomph into it so the metal hangers screeched on the bar. When they got married she’d relish sending most of his ugly suits to Goodwill. Not just out of spite--he’d been dressing like Angel redux for the past few years anyway. They were a waste of sorely needed space.

Cordelia was about to turn round and tell him they needed way, way more closet space when she felt him standing behind her. He put his hands on her waist, his mouth on her neck.

“Sex doesn’t solve everything,” she said.

“For the rest we have crossbows.” He undid the top two buttons on her shirt. She wanted to keep him from distracting her, but she couldn’t stop herself from resting her head on his shoulder, elongating her throat. He slid his hand into the cup of her bra. Her breasts were sore, but he was gentle as he coaxed her nipple hard. Guys had been stupid over her tits since they appeared in seventh grade; men couldn’t wait to play with them, regardless of how it felt to her. Wesley wasn’t like that. Even when he was rough it was all about what she wanted and when. Even now, when she had no intention of getting distracted, he was still great at being distracting.

“Do you want to pretend we’re back at the library?” He whispered.  
“My plaid skirt’s at the cleaners.”  
“You don’t really need it for the scenario I have in mind.”

He knew that one was her favorite, which also meant he was trying really, really hard to keep her from asking any more questions. Cordi lightly put her hands on top of his. “Stop.”  
He sighed in her ear, then stopped touching her. She leaned against him with her eyes closed.

“Talk to me, Wes. When you don’t it’s like you’re using me.”  
“That can be pleasant sometimes.”

She turned around and gave him the look that meant she wasn’t going to take any more of his shit. It was something like a five second warning bell that meant he either had to comply or evacuate. He seemed to understand his position by the way he ducked his head.

“I’m sorry.” He went over to the bed and sat down. “But you can’t blame me for wanting to lose myself with you for a little while.”  
“It sounded bad.”  
“Father was apoplectic.”  
She sat down beside him and he took her hand. “He knew all about you from my reports in Sunnydale, and afterward. A few council members had been keeping track of Angel. Someone informed him about Pylea. He’s even seen your commercial.”

“Oh God, the lover’s kiss, where I’m in the bikini?”

“The very same.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “Do you still have that bikini?”

“I do. If you’d like to see it again, you should probably finish your story.”

“Yes. Well. I told my mother our news and she was quite pleased. Said she’d talk to my father about coming to the wedding, but was certain it would all be formalities. He called me back a few minutes later demanding we call the whole thing off. Apparently, and god knows what would possess him to tell me this, but he never loved my mother. He laid out a whole story while I stood there mouth agape.

‘He’d been going with another young woman. She got an opportunity to work out of country. My mother was a family friend he’d known growing up. In his words, she trapped him by becoming pregnant with me and he was forced to marry her. Who says this to his own son, and then asserts that this was the worst decision he ever made in his life?”

“I’m so, so sorry, baby.” Cordelia hugged him close. She knew he was devastated, even though his whole face was weirdly calm.

“Poor mother, she must’ve been sitting in the other room, hearing every word. He’s said horrible things to her face all the while I was growing up but I never knew how much he truly hated her, and me.”

“He couldn’t hate you. It sounds like in a twisted way he’s trying to keep you from marrying someone you don’t love. So that’s good. Right?”

“No. He’s under the impression I’m not good enough for you.”

“That’s insane. I know he’s your father and everything, but has he ever actually met you?”

“Cordi,” he whispered, a smile hinting at the corner of his lips. 

“I think your dad sounds like an epic turd and I’m glad I’m never meeting him.”

Wesley barked out a laugh. “Yes, that about sums him up. I’m sure you’re tired of hearing about it. Let’s talk of something more pleasant.”

“Did you order the cake?”

“Yes, I think you’ll like it and depending on who shows up we could get takeaway from the Italian place down the street.”

“Not Italian. I’m wearing white.”

“Perhaps we could serve some clear broth, then?”

She smiled up at him. “All right, fine. We have Italian, but if a meatball lands on my lap I’m going to go World War III.”

“I’m sure if something’s going to ruin our wedding it will be devastation of the emotional variety. Or some kind of demon.”

“Great. You can never get demon blood out of satin. It’ll be homecoming all over again.” She squeezed his hand.

“I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what you dreamed of as a little girl when you thought about your wedding day.”

“That’s okay. I really had no idea what marriage was all about. Back then I thought Prince Eric was a real person. Although it would be cool to ride away in a carriage pulled by unicorns.”

“I’ll wash the Honda.”

“Good enough.”

Cordelia’s phone rang. Reluctantly she stood up.

“I should get that, it might be Angel.”

Wesley held onto her hand. “He knows about us.”

Cordi’s stomach clenched. “How’d he take it?”

“Poorly.”

She dug her phone out of her purse, feeling guilty and saw it was indeed her boss calling. She silenced the call. A second later she got a text. Her heart sank as she read the screen. “Angel says we need to talk.. I should go.”

“I suppose you should.”


	8. Chapter 8

After she left, Wesley poured himself a tumbler full of Scotch. He sat with a book in his lap, one of the few tomes he ever read for enjoyment, “The Collected Works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.” He didn’t crack the spine, though. Instead he took his glasses off, held his head in his hands and wept.

When he first met Angel and Cordelia, he went through an odd phase of crying with little provocation. When he was hired on, when Cordelia said she’d found someone who would die for her. They thought it was one of his eccentricities. He couldn’t tell them that he hadn’t cried like that since he was a child.

He remembered when his dog, Lady, died. He’d been six, maybe. His father stood over him, face impassive and said, “If you show this world your worthless heart, boy, it will devour you whole. Show some dignity. It’s just a dog.” Then he walked away, saying the display was making him sick. He and his mother buried the collie by themselves under the pear tree. He couldn’t eat pears after that because he imagined they tasted vaguely of Lady’s wet fur.

He’d been repressing his feelings for so long, when they began interjecting themselves, he had no idea how to react. He was like a boy again, surprised by the tears running down his face, ashamed of them. Liberated, too.

Necessity had forced him into the leadership role. It was down to him, no council, no vampire protector. So he put all those jagged emotions away. He grew into the role for better or worse. Ultimately worse, before Cordelia saved him. She gave him his tears back.

He had no wish to show them to her now, though. If everyone was right, and she was going to leave him, he didn’t want to make it any harder on her. Her pity was something he couldn’t abide.

**

Cordelia found Angel in the training room downstairs, right where Charles said he’d be. He stopped doing his boxing routine the minute he heard her. Instantly she regretted that they were having this discussion when he was so shirtless and sweaty.

She gave him a short wave. “Hi.”

“Cordelia.” He said her name in that way that told her she’d disappointed him. He grabbed a towel off a peg on the wall and wiped his chest.

She tried not to let her eyes get caught up in the motion, but wasn’t very successful judging from the smirk on his face.

“When were you going to tell me you and Wes were getting married?”

“I was planning on telling you right now. So what do you think? Pretty crazy, huh?” She gave him her brightest smile and shrugged.

“Yes, it is crazy. I don’t think you’ve thought this through. Either of you.” He slung the towel around his neck and closed in on her, but she stood her ground.

“You smell great,” she said.

“What?”

“Nothing. We’ve definitely thought it through.”

“How long have you even been dating?”

“About six months.”

“That’s...longer than I thought, but not very long in the scheme of things.”

“Nothing is long in your scheme of things.”

“You’re going to raise a child together and you’ve never even lived under the same roof. Six months isn’t long enough to find out the important things.”

“Okay I’m going to overlook the fact that you had a baby with your sworn enemy and remind you that he’s been one of my best friends for years. My other best friend is you, by the way, which is why I need you to be okay with all of this.”

“Well I’m not.”

“Is that because you have some moral objection to us getting married or because you’re in love with me?”

He got that scared look, where his eyes got all darty and his lips pursed.

“I..what have you heard? Did Lorne say something?”

“Nobody said anything. I’m vision girl, remember? I’m also the girl with eyes in her head and a general people sense. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

“If you knew, then why did you start dating Wesley?”

“Aside from the obvious I-don’t-need-to-explain-myself-to-you part, I’m not going to go into that. But I’ll always love you. That’s never going to change. Wes and I both love you. We’re still part of the mission, big time.”

“Well maybe I don’t want you to be.” He turned away from her, so she kept talking to his back.

“Angel, it doesn’t have to be like this. The whole reason I didn’t want to tell you was because it didn’t seem worth it if we weren’t serious. Well, we’re serious. Like ‘Schindler’s List’ serious.”

“You’re not helping, Cordi.” He threw the towel in the hamper by the stairs.

“I’m not trying to. I mean I am, but. Look. We didn’t go into this relationship lightly, we agonized over what it would do to the group.”

“You still went through with it.”

“Am I supposed to spend my life alone?”

“Then why him? Is it because he can walk in the sunlight with you?”

“A lot of guys can walk in the sunlight with me. He’s more than that. Don’t think that if you could suddenly go tanning I’d dump the father of my child. We might have been something once, Angel, but that won’t ever happen now. We will never be anything more than friends.”

“Was that really necessary? Couldn’t you have shoved a stake in my heart instead?”

“Truth is my default setting. You know that. My wedding is on Friday. I expect you to be there in appropriate formal wear with a smile on your face and a nicely wrapped gift. End of discussion.” She turned around with a flounce. He grabbed her upper arm with bruising force.

“Cordi, wait.” Angel pulled her against him. It was bewildering and she flashed back to the time they kissed, when they were under a spell. Just like then, she felt out of control of her body, but in a more frightening way. It wasn’t a ghost making Angel hold her tight. Her best friend wasn’t on her side.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Immediately, he let her go.

“I’m sorry.” He looked as surprised as she was.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again.”

**  
By the time she got back to Wes’ apartment, she was practically vibrating. Confronting Angel had been exhilarating and horrible all at once. At least he deserved it. She couldn’t believe that she used to talk to her friends like that all the time in high school. No wonder nobody called her anymore.

She unlocked the door and went into the dark apartment. An empty high ball glass sat on the table next to his favorite chair beside a mostly full bottle of Scotch. Normally she’d tsk at him leaving stuff around, but she had a gut feeling that something was wrong. She called out his name, but he didn’t answer.

Cordi ran through the small space before bursting into his bedroom, where he was lying asleep.

“Wes?”

“Yes, I’m awake, hold on a moment.” He mumbled without moving.

She felt silly for worrying, but relieved, too. She undressed and got into bed beside him. He wrapped himself around her. He smelled soapy clean like he’d just taken a shower. She kissed him. He tasted like minty toothpaste.

“You’re so cold,” he whispered. “Is everything alright?”

“I just came back from outside. I don’t know if it’s alright.”

“What did he say?”

“Oh, you know. He was kind of menacing, kind of sweet, being a grumpy old man one minute and then doing the ‘I’m so, so sorry but I’m the emotionally useless love of your life’ the next. You know, just being Angel.”

“Did he frighten you? You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“No. It was nothing like that.”

Wesley sat up and fumbled for the light. She winced when he clicked it. He patted around until he found his glasses and put them on.

“Your arm.” His fingertips grazed her bicep. Even the light pressure hurt, and she glanced down to see a perfect hand print bruised into her flesh.

“What did he do to you?”

“He grabbed me. I didn’t think it was that hard.”

“I don’t care who he is. I’ll drag him into the sunlight by his hair if he touches you like that again.”

“No, Wes, it wasn’t like that--” She put her hands on his shoulders.

“The evidence of how it was is right here on your skin.” For the second time that day, he raised his voice.

“I don’t think he’s going to forgive us.”

“Cordelia.” He pulled her close him and she melted against him. “We’ve done nothing wrong. Fred and Gunn are dating, there was no confrontation about that. Angel has a child. He never consulted us. We’re allowed to be together.”

“Then why does it feel like I’m letting him down?”

“Because you’re a good person and you love him. He’s taking advantage of that fact to make you feel guilty.”

“It’s not just Angel. I feel like I’m letting everybody down. You already mean more to me than the whole world. When the baby gets here I’m going to be totally useless. Lately it’s taking all my effort not to just lie in bed all day, eating peanut butter and looking at paint samples for the nursery.”

He took his glasses off and set them on the bedside table. Without the subterfuge, he really did have pretty eyes. She thought so every time he looked into her like that.

“You mean more to me than the whole world, too.” He kissed her. They sank down on the bed together. Their movements slowed as they became mired in pleasure. She wanted to kiss him forever.

For the first time since they’d gotten together, she felt as though she had the freedom to take all the time she wanted. Before then, even in their own homes, even when they were assured to be completely alone, she’d felt a frantic rush to get to the finish, to come before the next disaster wrenched them apart. For the first time she finally felt safe.


	9. Chapter 9

Angel had followed her with the purest of intentions. He was going to explain. Maybe when she calmed down she’d understand that he only wanted what was best for her. For both of them.

Unfortunately, his curiosity got the better of him. Like why would they stay at Wesley’s crummy apartment that screamed BACHELOR in capital letters with the weird textured walls and the sad drinks cart when they could fornicate at the most beautiful rent-controlled apartment in all of Los Angeles? Then he remembered Dennis and a snippet of conversation he’d overheard between Cordi and Fred.

“So he’s started leaving me these notes and in the last one he asked if Groo and I could maybe spend some time away from the apartment, you know, because it’s hard for him to ignore some of the stuff--”

He hadn’t thought anything of it at the time but he realized Dennis probably wasn’t thrilled to see Wes and Cordi together. The insight into their habits made him smile.

When Cordi got out of her car, she looked distracted. Angel had to drive around the building four times before he found a spot, so his plan to catch her before she went inside didn’t pan out. By the time he made it up the steps to Wes’ door, it was locked and the hallway stood empty.

Angel walked toward the steps with the intention of leaving, when he heard his name uttered from behind the wall. He backed up and pressed his ear to the plaster. The room was utterly silent. Silent as the grave. 

Worry replaced all his other feelings. He should have been able to hear something if they were inside and if she’d left, he would have run into her on the stairwell. 

Angel knew the fire escape afforded a view into the apartment. If something was wrong he could get inside through the bedroom windown. He walked out of the building then silently up the metal fire escape. When he poked his head in the window, he saw something completely commonplace which still came as an utter shock.

Cordelia and Wes were outlined in a halo of gold lamplight. They were kissing, completely naked. He feasted on the sight of her bare back and the sunburst tattoo embracing a moon inked at the base of her spine. Every time he spotted it when she was putting away files on a high shelf and her shirt rode up, he always meant to ask her why she got it. Except he never did. Wesley probably knew.

The thought made his heart go colder. Angel knew the right thing to do would be to steal away, before either of them noticed him peering through the window, but he didn’t. Instead, he strained closer to the glass. 

Cordelia rolled on top. Big shock there. She was always kind of bossy and Wes was always the type who needed a boss. The blanket fell away to expose her body in all its glory. As a rule, Angel didn’t breathe, but he found himself panting for the first time in more than two centuries. Cordi’s tan skin shone and her nipples were hard. The only flaw, if you could call it that, was that she was hairless from the chin down. Women shaving happened to be one of those modern peculiarities he couldn’t quite get used to. In his day it was something only whores did. It made her look...not like how he wanted her to be, but he always suspected she’d shave because of the parts of her he could see. She was exquisitely beautiful no matter the fashion.

Part of that beauty had to do with the expression of happy abandon on her face. In all the times he’d imagined her naked and in the throes of passion, he’d never pictured her with that goofy smile.

He never thought of how Wes would look at all, but now he knew that too. Angel was disappointed to see that Wes’ penis wasn’t a bent stump. In fact it was totally normal, if not a tiny bit above average in length. Not as above average as Angel’s penis, but still. It was a little too close for comfort.

Wes was not much for manscaping, but Cordi didn’t seem to care. She touched the furrows of his downy chest before bending to lick and suck on his long neck. Wes did have a great neck, Angel would give him that. He’d never been especially attracted to men, but he still noticed nice necks on both sexes.

He imagined Buffy on his shoulder, telling him what a disgusting freak he was.

“These are your friends. You’re going to have to see them at work tomorrow. What the hell is wrong with you?” Buffy figment shouted.

“I’m constantly suppressing ultimate evil and it comes out in kind of weird ways sometimes, honey.”

“I know.”

“Then since you’re part of my imagination, you probably know I did the same thing to you and Riley.”

He hadn’t watched her with Spike, though. Spike would have enjoyed that way too much.

If Buffy sat on one shoulder in her little white wings, then Angelus sat on the other, swinging his pointed tail. “Imagine what it would be like to drain him while he’s still inside her. You could sweep her out of there like King Kong if you weren’t such a mewling quim.”

Angel tried to dismiss the thought, but when Cordi bit down he could almost feel the texture of Wes’ skin against his own teeth.

Wesley flipped her over, half covering her with the comforter. She dug her fingers into his shoulders when he did something unseen beneath the covers. He whispered in her ear. His words made her drive her head back into the pillow and laugh. Wesley kissed her smiling mouth, and kept doing soft and secrets things with his hand. He pinned both of her wrists above her head, drawing her body tight. She seemed to love being at his mercy from the way she writhed. Wes kept talking low in her ear. Whatever he said had her mesmerized. Angel hated he couldn’t hear a thing, until she came. That, he could hear. Her scream was so loud he could feel it rattling his bones.

“Are you happy now, you dumb mook?” his inner Buffy asked.

“You wouldn’t like me when I’m happy.”

What Angel expected next didn’t happen. Wes didn’t pound into her. Instead he kissed her forehead, let her arms go. They held each other for a long time and talked. Just as Angel was about to leave, Wesley got up. He came back a moment later with a jar of peanut butter and a spoon.

Angel remembered the first time Cordi slept in his bed and denied getting peanut butter on his sheets. The memory made him ashamed of himself for peeping on his friends. He jumped down from the fire escape and landed hard in the alley beside the building. As he was getting to his feet he looked up. Wesley and Cordi had stuck their heads out of the window and were looking down at him quizzically.

“Angel?” Cordi shouted.

“There were vampires. Following you home. I stopped them.”

“Do you need some help?” Wesley asked. Angel almost told him where he could shove his help, but then realized Wes hadn’t been the one doing something terribly, fundamentally wrong.

“I’ve got it covered, Wes. But thank you.”

**  
Wesley locked the window and turned around to see Cordi standing with her arms crossed over her chest. When they heard the crash she’d grabbed the nearest thing to her to put on--one of his buttoned down shirts. He felt a sense of pride seeing her in his clothes.

“Was that weird to you? That was weird to me.” She hugged herself and he instinctively put his arms around her. The contact must have soothed her because she relaxed enough to return his embrace. “I left work like an hour and a half ago.”

“I don’t know. If Angel needed help, he would have asked for it. Let’s go to bed, darling. It’s late.” He had an ulterior motive for rushing her back to bed. After all, he still hadn’t finished. If she was too rattled to make love, though, sleep would be much preferable to chasing after Angel in the middle of the night. He felt terrible for entertaining the thought. Perhaps Cordi was right and they were losing some sense of responsibility.

Her chest rose and fell fast. She looked back with uncharacteristic timidness, a worried frown on her face.  
“What is it?” He brushed her hair away from her distracted eyes.  
“I don’t know. It’s nothing. I thought I saw something outside the window after Angel left, but it was just a shadow.”  
“Shall I check?”  
“No. Stay with me.” She burrowed deeper into his shoulder. Her arms almost caused him pain for how strongly she gripped him. “Don’t let me go.”

**  
Cordelia knew what she saw when she glanced at the window. Angel’s face, even though it disappeared an eye blink later. She knew it hadn’t been her imagination because of the vision that followed; Complete desolation at Angel’s hands.


	10. Chapter 10

Cordi and Wes came into work the next day in the same car. She skipped her ritual baby wipe/perfume douse that she’d been doing before entering the building to prevent Angel from knowing the extent of her relationship with Wesley. None of that mattered any more.

Wesley had stopped asking her what was wrong, but she could tell he wanted to ask. The way she’d been clinging to his hand non-stop didn’t help his suspicions, but she needed to feel him nearby.

Charles and Fred stood at the front desk. When they saw Wes and Cordi, the two came over with huge smiles on the faces.

“Congratulations! Fred told me. I’ve already got my tux lined up for the big day,” Charles put his arms around Wes. Cordi regretted having to let go of Wesley’s hand so he could hug Gunn back.

“You didn’t have to rent a tux, Charles,” Wesley patted Gunn on the shoulder.

“He didn’t. He owns one.” Fred said.

“It’s for James Bond cosplay. My line when I meet new people is, ‘Always bet on red.’ I like subverting expectations.”

“I play one of the Bond girls. So far I’ve gone as Tiffany Case and Christmas Jones.”

“I wanted her to be Pussy Galore but she was too embarrassed to say the name out loud.”

“Why did I never notice how adorable you two are together?” Cordelia asked, almost to herself. She would miss them so much if they were gone. Cordelia expected Gunn to deny being adorable, the way he usually did when she accused him of being cute or sweet. Instead he looked at her with concern.

Fred also stared at her, head cocked. “Are you okay, Cordelia?”

Wesley subtly shook his head no, but Fred didn’t notice the cue to keep quiet.

Cordelia put on her brightest smile. “I’m fine.”

“Then why are you crying?” Charles asked.

Cordelia hadn’t even noticed. She dashed the tears from her eyes. “Is Angel around? I really need to talk to him.”

As soon as she said it, Angel tromped heavily down the stairs with Connor in his arms.

“I’m here. Do you want to talk in Connor’s room?”

She nodded. As she passed by Wesley, she squeezed his hand, just to ground herself. She couldn’t look at his face, though. That would have made her cry harder.

When they thought she was out of earshot, Fred asked, “Do you think it’s pre-wedding jitters?”

“God I hope not. She’s psychic,” Charles replied.

“Thank you for tempering your responses out of deference to my feelings,” Wes said, bitterly.

“Oh, Wesley.” Fred put her hand on his shoulder.

Cordelia and Angel turned down the hallway. “The acoustics in this place are amazing. I can hear most of what you guys say in the lobby from the balcony.”

“You probably don’t even have to use your vampirey mojo half the time.”

“What did you want to talk to me about, Cordelia?”

They got to Connor’s room. The space looked a lot different than when he’d first brought the baby home. She’d helped Angel to make it more appropriate. They’d spent a Saturday together and repainted the walls baby blue. She’d been the one to research cribs to make sure Connor got the safest one on the market. Wesley had helped her put it together, before they’d even started dating.

It seemed strange and terrible to have a discussion about Angel hurting her and sundering the group in this room that had been built with so much of their shared affection.

She nudged a toy truck and a baby piano out of the way with her toe as she made her way to the recliner by the crib. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before and she was already wiped out from the pregnancy.

Angel set his son down on the fluffy white carpet. The baby immediately crawled over to Cordelia, ignoring all his scattered toys, and reached his arms toward her to be picked up. She couldn’t resist. He curled up on her lap, chewing on her chunky necklace.

“You’re going to be a good mom.”

“I hope so.”

“Connor thinks so, don’t you big guy?” Angel tickled the baby’s tummy, making Connor giggle.

Fresh tears shone in her eyes. She hated that she had to put the lie to their sweet little scene. “Angel. Why were you watching me and Wes last night?”

“Uh.” Angel walked to the other side of the room. “I told you it was...vampires.”

“Don’t lie. I know why you were doing it. Did you figure anything out from what you saw?”

“What do you want me to say, Cordi? I made a mistake.”

She spoke in a loud whisper. “That’s not a mistake. That's a violation of mine and Wes’ trust.”

“I’m sorry, Cordi. I would never do that to you. I mean I didn’t think of it that way. What did Wes say?”

“I didn’t tell him. I don’t think it’s something he could forgive.”

“But you could?”

“Maybe. But if you don’t stop all this jealousy and stalking and scary stuff, you won’t see me again. I love you, but I will take my husband and my baby and move to the other side of the planet.”

“I could find you.”

“Why don’t you not lose me in the first place?”

“I wouldn’t hurt you-”

“Except you did last night. You hurt me. You betrayed me. Like less than twelve hours ago, so stop fooling yourself. You are capable of things that have nothing to do with Angelus.”

The muscle in his jaw ticked and he looked at the floor a few feet in front of her.

“Fine. I told you I’m sorry. I don’t know what else you want me to do.”

“I want you to do better, that’s what I want. I had a vision that you’re going to do something terrible to me.”

“A vision?” He began to pace. “You really do need to get as far away from me as possible, Cordi.”

“What? No. We stop people from dying all the time with my visions. And you have the ultimate power to stop this one.”  
“But what if I don’t? We both know I’m not always the one in control.”  
“We can fight this like we’ve fought everything else.”  
“Cordi, I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. It’s the same reason I had to leave Buffy. You’re better off without me.”  
“Angel,” she touched the side of his face. “I believe in you.”  
He must have mistaken her touch for something else, because he took it as a cue to drag her into a kiss. She shoved him away.  
“What the hell is wrong with you?”  
“Sorry. I thought that was a signal.”  
“Wouldn’t me getting married to somebody else be, like, a way bigger signal, over-riding all other signals?”  
“I don’t know. Being near you, it’s like I can barely control myself.”  
“Funny, Angel, you’re making me feel the same way,” Wesley said as he leaned in the doorway.  
“Wes,” Angel hissed.  
They stared at each other as though she was no longer in the room. Cordi rolled her eyes.  
“Great, I’m dealing with the ambiguously moral duo.” She turned to her fiance and took his hand. “Wes, I’ll be done in a minute--”  
“Actually, I was coming up to tell you both we have a call. There’s a British lycanthrope cult planning to sack downtown tonight.”  
Fred poked her head in. “Charles and Wesley and Lorne all said I could be the one to say it.”  
“Say what?” Cordi was getting a massive headache, like a pre-demon transformation vision type headache. She didn’t feel like playing games, even though excited Fred was more darling than a mouse riding on a rabbit.  
“You know, the song--” Lorne was out in the hall.  
“No! No, don’t spoil it before I get to say it out loud.”  
“Oh, I just got it. Werewolves of London,” Angel clasped his hands together and nodded knowingly.“I saw Warren Zevon when he was touring with Linda Ronstadt. Totally amazing.”  
Everyone besides Angel groaned at once for different reasons.  
“Yeah we get it,” Gunn said while Fred muttered, “Rats.”


	11. Chapter 11

Wes was able to subvert the werewolf battle by creating a sunlight spell. A portable ball of sunlight converted the werewolves into human beings. They left the dazed cultists cuffed and naked in the middle of the street, waiting for the police, with the globe of light floating above them.

Not only did the spell save them from having to fight a bunch of super-strong werewolves, it had the added benefit of forcing Angel to stay home. Cordelia’s head-ache was splitting, and being near Angel would only have made it worse.

Fred suggested they go for celebratory pancakes. Cordelia begged off on hers and Wesley’s behalf. The four of them separated at their cars and for the first time since that morning, she and Wesley were alone. Rain began pouring down the moment they got inside the vehicle. She almost commented on how lucky they were to miss the deluge, but she didn’t feel very lucky at all. Cordelia switched on the radio and Wesley immediately switched it off.

“Tell me what happened,” he said, his eyes on the road. He didn’t have to elaborate. This was the conversation they hadn’t been having all day.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Let me put it this way, Cordi. Would you have allowed me to stay silent on the subject this long?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll grant you no such favor. Tell me.”

She sighed. “I had a vision that Angel hurt me. When I told him about it he said you and I should leave.”

“Leave Angel Investigations?”

“Yes. I told him he could stop it from happening but he didn’t believe me. Or he didn’t want to try.”

“And you refused to tell me in order to protect him.”

“That’ll put marzipan in your pieplate, Bingo.”

“Excuse me?”

“Something Xander said the last time we talked on the phone.”

“If you could resist the Dadaist idioms until we’ve finished sussing this out.”  
“I don’t even know what that means.”  
“It means we reached the end of my rope a very long time ago.”  
“I know you’re not threatening me, because you’re not stupid.”  
“That’s right. I know my place quite well. It seems Angel is the only person in your life who you’ll allow to threaten you with impunity.”  
“He wasn’t. It’s not--”  
“Tell me again how it’s not that way. You need to stop making excuses for him. I want to know exactly what happened in your vision.” His voice was smooth and calm as still water. She knew the calm hid fathoms. When he got like that it made her so afraid. Not of him, but for him.  
She listened to the windshield wipers for a few beats before she spoke.  
“In the vision I was strapped down to a bed in a white room. You were gone. Everyone was gone, and I knew they didn’t miss me.”  
“Where does Angel come into it?”  
“He.” She started crying again. It was awful, she hadn’t been able to get a handle on her tears and she wasn’t sure if it was pregnancy hormones or wedding stress or the fact that her best friend might be planning on doing something horrible to her. “He took his shirt off and got in bed with me. I couldn’t move or talk. I think I was drugged or something. I wasn’t even scared, though. It’s like I didn’t care what he did to me any more because everything else was gone.”  
Wesley didn’t respond. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his fingers went white. They rode in silence for five minutes before she finally caved, and spoke.  
“Say something. Please.”  
“I am going to kill him.”  
“No, Wes. You can’t.”  
“Cordelia,” his voice was a measured whisper. “He tried to force himself on you in front of his son and he said he’s having trouble with self-control.”  
“It’s Angel.”  
“Yes, which is why I didn’t dust him this morning, when I should have.”  
“Remember what brought us together, Wes?”  
“This is a different situation.”  
“You’re right. It is, because I’m here and I’m telling you not to go rogue demon hunter on this one. I won’t stay with you if you kill him. I’ll take our baby and be the trophy wife of some guy with a yacht.”  
“Cordelia!”  
“You don’t think I could pull yacht money with this body, pal?”  
“Be serious. We’ll be looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives.”  
“We can move away. Buffy always needs help with impending doom. We could move back to Sunnydale.”  
“Yes, because Angel has done a stellar job of keeping away from Buffy.”  
“If you don’t trust Angel, do you at least trust me, Wes? Because that’s what this all boils down to. Do you trust me?”  
He took in a deep breath. “Of course I do.”  
“Then trust me.” She watched his profile. The line of his mouth softened.  
“I will. I promise.” He put his hand on her knee. The warmth spread through her whole body, calming her. The weight of her exhaustion was bearing down, and she closed her eyes. The sound of the rain soothed her headache and soon she fell asleep.

**  
Cordelia woke up to the sound of a car door slamming. She must have passed out on the way home. Rain splattered the windshield in big drops, and for a second she didn’t know where she was. Someone opened the passenger side door and she started, until she realized it was only Wesley, holding an umbrella over her door.  
“What’s wrong, darling?”  
The rain spattered on the top of the umbrella, it churned in sloshing rivulets along the sidewalk.  
“Nothing.” She took the arm he offered and got out of the car. They were at her apartment complex. “Why aren’t we at your place?”  
“I saw Angel’s car parked out front. Who knows what he’s playing at, but I thought we could get some clothes here and go to a hotel.”  
“No.” She unlocked the outside door and they walked into the lobby. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he doesn’t need an invite to get into a hotel. Could you do a disinvite spell?”  
“That’s so reasonable I’m ashamed I didn’t think of it.” He closed the umbrella and then tapped it a few times on the stone floor to shake all the water off. “I believe everything we need is in the pantry.”  
“While you do that, I’ll find you something to wear tomorrow. My head’s hurting way too much for arcane chanting right now.”  
Wesley immediately went to the kitchen, while she went into her bedroom. She wanted to flop down on the bed and try to go back to sleep, but not without Wes beside her. Instead she went over to her closet. Wesley had a side of her closet, just like she had at his place; unlike her, though, he’d hardly left anything there. They’d decided early on that his was better for doing the things she never wanted Dennis to know about. It turned out there were many, many things she liked to do that she never wanted anyone but Wes to know about.

Except now Angel knew, or thought he did. Angel had given her most of the shirts, slacks and skirts that hung in her closet. He liked to go shopping with her, it was one of their little secrets. She’d never thought much about it before now, but she began to wonder if he’d been looking in on her in the changing room. It’s not like she could see him in the mirror. She felt so sick and her head wouldn’t stop throbbing.

Cordelia heard Wesley reciting the spell and could smell burning sage. She listened for a moment, felt the energies in the room shift.

She took down the only shirt he had hanging there that she actually liked. It was a navy blue button-down she’d bought him. Her bottom drawer was where she kept his other odds and ends; boxer shorts, socks and jeans. A moment later he came into the room as she was cobbling together an outfit.  
“It’s done. He can’t get in unless you decide to invite him in again.”  
She held up a faded t shirt, “Why do you even have a Dixie Chicks t-shirt?”  
He came over to her and snatched the shirt out of her hand. “Fred took me to a concert and I tried to impress her by buying one at the door.”  
“Why is it here?”  
“You needed me to strip that coffee table and I didn’t want to ruin one of my good jerseys.”  
“Well, I’d say we can safely throw it out now, along with this.” She grabbed a nearly halved blue Oxford shirt and held it up, peeking at him from behind the massive tear.  
He smirked at her. “That was a very good night.”  
Despite everything, Cordelia thought about the night in question and couldn’t help grinning at him. “Yeah, it kinda was.”  
“Why did you keep it for so long?”  
“I thought I might learn to sew one day.” She threw it over her over her shoulder. “But today’s not that day. Is this maybe stupid, Wes?”  
He shrugged. “No, you could always cut it up for rags.”

“Not that, us hiding from Angel. I’m not sure where we really stand, and we’ll have to talk with him eventually. Maybe I was wrong about the vision.”

“You’ve never been wrong about a vision before. They wouldn’t be sent to you without purpose.” Wesley took a step toward her when the doorbell interrupted him. His eyes seemed to grow darker and resignation hardened his features.

“It might not be him,” Cordi offered, although she immediately clutched Wes’ arm.

“If you believe it’s not, I’ll eat my hat.”  
“I’ve never seen you wear a hat.”  
“That only strengthens my point.”

He grabbed a stake from the bedside table before they went into the living room.  
“Do you have to carry that?”  
“You know I do.” He tried to nudge her behind him before he answered the door. That led to a little pushing match that he didn’t win. She opened her own door to see Angel on the threshold with his head contritely bent.  
“Angel,” Wesley said. Curt Wesley was not the Wesley you wanted to mess with. She wondered if Angel noticed how angry her fiance was or heard her pulse race. Probably. Still, he tried to walk past them as though nothing had happened. When he bounced back, embarrassment and rage waged war behind his eyes.  
“I went to Wes’ place but you guys never showed, so I came here.”  
“What led you to believe we were expecting you?” Wesley kept his body in between her and the hall. She didn’t want to tussle in front of Angel, so she let Wesley have his way.  
Angel ignored Wesley’s question and looked into Cordelia’s eyes.  
“About this morning, I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking about what we can do and I have something that might help.” He took a slim gold chain out of his pocket that was weighted down with a crystal pendant. The gem was leaf-green and veined with gold. “This is the Star of Ziva.”

“Which is what, aside from very pretty?” Cordi asked.

“A traditional wedding gift among the Calendash Romani tribes. Grooms gave them to their brides as a symbol of fidelity. The stone glows green as long as the giver is alive,” Wesley said, flatly.

“So I’ll always know Wes is okay.” Cordi felt genuinely touched.

“No. It’s been bound to my soul. If I become Angelus, then the stone will turn black, and you’ll know you’re not safe, Cordi.”

“What if you die?” Wesley’s hand tensed on the stake.

“Well, if I dust that would make it turn black, too.”

She stepped away from Wes, feeling hopeful for the first time in days. “Does this mean you changed your mind about us leaving?”

“No. You’re in way too much danger being with me every day.”

“As opposed to the danger she’ll be in as a pregnant woman with no health insurance?”

“She can stay on our health insurance plan until you find other work, Wes. I just don’t want to be near you two.”

“For her safety or for your own comfort?”

“Both.” Angel set the necklace down on her welcome mat. “I have to go.”

“Are you coming to the wedding?” Cordi reached for his arm, but stopped before she touched him. Her hand hovered there a second and she felt ashamed; for locking him out with a spell and for still wanting him in her life.

“I’ll try.” Angel looked at her outstretched hand and smiled, before walking away. Cordelia knelt to pick up the token he’d left. Wesley hoisted her back, lifting her off the ground and holding her behind him as though she were a toddler reaching for a light socket.

“That’s the most rudimentary trick.” He scooped up the jewelry himself. “Never lean out of the home’s protection.”

He shut the door and locked it before setting her down. When her feet touched the floor, she shoved him away.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again.” She retreated to her bedroom.

Wesley followed close behind. “What, protect you and our baby? I’m sorry, but I can’t promise you that, Cordelia.”

She turned around in front of her bed. Wesley was only a few inches behind her.

“He didn’t try to grab you, you paranoid freak.”

“Presumably that’s because he doesn’t want to fuck me,” Wesley spat out.

Her eyes started welling. “I hate you right now.”

“Because I’m right.”

“Shut up.”

“Shall I sleep on the couch, then?”

She nodded. He held the stake up and lobbed it to her. She caught the weapon with one hand. “Since you’d prefer to protect yourself.”

He turned on his heel before she could wedge another word in and slammed the bedroom door on his way out.  
**  
Sun streamed through the floor length windows. A man stood in silhouette, his hands clasped behind his back. His body carved out a dark space. The darkness seemed to grow, until there was nothing but him surrounding her. Until he blotted out all the light in the world.

In the darkness, she heard Wesley’s voice. It was distant first, then closer.

“Cordelia, you’re dreaming. Wake up darling, it’s just a dream.”

She felt Wes’ arms around her and knew it was him before she even opened her eyes. It wasn’t just because he smelled like Burberry cologne and Scotch, or the feel of his bare skin under her hands. She knew it with everything that made her Cordelia. When she healed him, she used a piece of herself to make him whole and it called to her every time they were close.

She looked at him from within the circle of his arms.  
“What was I doing?”  
“Whimpering and thrashing. I heard you from the other room. Was it another vision?”  
“I think it was a regular old non-supernatural, terrifying nightmare. I’m okay.”  
He withdrew from her and got to his feet.  
“Where are you going?”  
“I assumed since I’m still right you were still angry.”  
“Get back here, jerk.” She opened her arms to him and he slid in beside her, his smile a pale blue crescent in the darkness. She rested her head on his chest. Everything they’d said during their fight had left her feeling bruised. “I’m sorry.”  
“I’m sorry, too.” He kissed her forehead. She lifted her head and caught his lips with hers. This kiss became passionate all at once, and his hand sought the heat between her legs.  
“Please. I need you right now,” he said, softly.  
“I need you, too.” She dragged his boxers down. He pushed her panties to the side and drove his cock inside her, so deep it almost hurt. Slowly they moved together. She touched his face, and felt wet tears on his cheeks.  
“It’s okay. We’re okay,” she said.  
“No, it’s not.” He rested his forehead on hers. “You’re my heart, Cordi. If he hurt you.” She kissed his eyelids.  
“Everything is going to be okay.” She didn’t believe it for a second, but she had to say it.  
“Don’t lie to me, darling. I won’t accept a lie if it leaves us open for attack.”  
“Then just for tonight, make me forget I’m afraid.”


	12. Chapter 12

The sky was turning pink outside her window. They’d been making love off and on for hours. Cordelia was sore, tired and sated. She watched his face; his eyes were shut. He had a few days stubble and his curls were tangled. Circles darkened the fragile skin beneath his eyes.  
“Do you remember when you took me to the prom?”  
“Mmm.” He opened one eye. “What prompted that?”  
“I don’t know. I wore--”  
“The black dress with the spangles. Like you were dressed in a field of stars. And I didn’t so much take you as lurked around you all night until you agreed to dance with me.”  
She chuckled. “You were such a tool.”  
“Yes, yes I was. And you were a ditsy bitch.”  
“I was Queen Bitch. Get it right.”  
He rolled over on top of her suddenly and placed a kiss on her swollen lips. He gazed at her adoringly. “All hail the queen.”  
“Hey, I’m trying to tell a story here. Save your adulation for the end.”  
“Sorry, my liege.” He dipped his head as a show of respect.  
“When you drove me to the hotel where I was staying with my parents, you didn’t even put your hand on my knee.”  
“I was too scared. You were so above me.”  
“I was homeless, Wes.”  
“You were still a symbol of everything I wanted to have.”  
“You were to me, too. When you dropped me off, I thought to myself, ‘I’m going to marry that guy.’ Isn’t that crazy?”  
“Because you were right?”  
“No, because he, you, only looked like you. Does that make sense?”  
“In a way. We were strangers but we imagined idealized personalities in one another to match our devastating physical beauty.” He grinned at his own joke.  
“Especially me. I was moisturizing twice a day and eating all organic.”  
“We were both superficial then.”  
“Yes. Exactly. I mean, you’re still a little superficial, though, right?”  
“You’re an extraordinary woman, Cordelia, and you know it.”  
“That’s all I wanted to hear.”  
“How unbelievable that we should grow into the people we actually wanted.” Wesley combed his fingers through her hair, careful not to pull the tangles.  
“It’s even weirder, because you’re nothing like the person I thought I wanted then,” Cordelia said.  
“What did you want?” He planted a kiss on her cheek. As she spoke he peppered her face and neck with soft pecks.  
“Someone not as smart as me who would pay for things, basically. I didn’t want to have a husband so much as a retirement plan with really nice abs. What did you want?”

He threaded his fingers through her hair. “To taste you.” He tilted her head back and kissed her mouth. When he broke the kiss, she was breathless. “I didn’t care about anything else. Perhaps that’s why I failed at my job so spectacularly because I was fantasizing about putting my head under your skirt twenty-four hours a day.”

“Stop it, I’m baring my soul here.” She smacked him, the slap had to sting on naked skin, but he only smiled at her.

“So am I darling. In my mind I couched it in gracious, romantic terms. Love at first sight.” He crawled down her body, dragging his tongue down the center. She didn’t understand how he could make her desperate for him after she’d already come twice, but she wanted him just as much as the very first time he touched her. She spread her legs apart before him. He hovered there above the aching folds of her labia, looking at her sex. His elbows held her down, so she couldn’t move. “But my intentions toward you weren’t pure.” He blew on her clitoris, making her quake as the cool air hit her overheated skin. “I didn’t appreciate the real you until much later.”

“How much later?” Normally the blowing bit would have her promising him anything in order to make her come; costumes, handcuffs, strange accents. But what he was saying was even more interesting.

“The night Angel fired us the first time, when we killed the demon bare-handed with Charles. You didn’t act out of obligation or because your sense of identity depended upon it. You fought because you wanted to help that young woman. And you were fearless. I’d been treating you with so much condescension up to that point but you were a worthier person than I was. It made me embarrassed.” She strained under him as he kissed her stomach, her hips. Finally he began lapping between her legs. He licked and sucked until she reached her climax. It was a gentle orgasm that washed over her in warm waves.

After she was finished he prowled up her body. He wrapped his arms around her and she sprawled out on his chest. She listened to his heartbeat slow down to normal, and was nearly asleep when he spoke.

“What are you thinking, my darling?”

“Every time I touch the scars on your body, I can see what caused them.” She ran her fingers lightly over the web of scars on his chest.

“What do you feel when you touch me here?” He lifted her hand and pressed it to his throat, right where the scar Justine gave him would have been. She hadn’t touched him there since she’d undone his sins. It had been a conscious choice. Cordelia was overwhelmed by his emotions, just as she suspected she’d be. Her words came out in a whisper.

“So much love that it could split the world apart.”

“That’s how I feel when I look at you,” he said.

“It scares me.”

“Me too.”

**  
Fred’s phone rang but she couldn’t answer it because she happened to be walking down the street with her arms full of a cake that was being all rectangular and unwieldy. It was probably Charles calling back in response to her four messages and she had nowhere to set down her burdensome pastry.

Wesley and Cordelia were getting married in two hours and nothing had gone right so far. She’d assumed being the maid of honor would be a cinch. Cordi said they got the fastest ceremony available at the wedding chapel, so all she and Charles had to do was stand around, then they were going to go to Cordi’s apartment for cake and champagne and hopefully a platter of those little egg rolls you could get at Trader Joe’s. She hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast and it was already eleven o’clock.

Charles and Wesley had to go rescue a nursery full of newborn babies from this weird mummy thing that had been unearthed at the site of the old Natural History museum. It was being leveled to make way for a Jamba Juice and the work crews smashed the sarcophagus. She’d been in the middle of helping Cordi get ready when Cordelia had the vision. They called Angel thinking they could pass the buck, but Angel called Charles who was supposed to be picking up the cake and Charles called Wesley. So the whole thing fell to Fred, because a second later Cordelia got a phone call and had to get some sort of surprise for Wes last minute.

Since her stint in Pylea, Fred hadn’t been much with driving. She had her license but cars made her very, very nervous. It was almost like navigating a giant metal animal from the inside. She’d tried to explain it to Charles but he just smiled like he was trying not to laugh and then he’d hugged her. Sometimes she wished her problems didn’t seem cute to other people. It was like trying to tell someone about your terrifying nightmare, but once you get to the part about the kitten tree, you completely lose them.

Wesley tried to lend her his car, but again, the metal animal thing, so she took a cab to the bakery. The car she’d called to bring her back to Cordi’s hadn’t shown up yet, and she couldn’t hail one. The last time she called Charles to pick her up, it had gone right to voice mail. Now her cell was playing “Fools Rush In,” over and over again.

She went into the nearest open shop, a pricey boutique. Most of the clothes in there cost more than her first year of undergrad. She set the cake on a glass display case of cuff bracelets. The clerk didn’t like that at all, but Fred was able to dig her phone out of her jeans pocket.

“Fred where are you? You left three hours ago.”

“I know. There was a problem at the bakery. Instead of saying ‘Congratulations Cordelia and Wesley’ the cake read ‘Happy Birthday Corduroy and Wensley.’ Wensley isn’t even a name. I had them redo it, but then it looked even worse, so I had them cover it up with icing roses. It’s not like they don’t know who’s getting married, anyway.”

“We need to go now. I’ll pick you up.”  
“But my dress.”  
“I’ll bring it, you can change in the truck.”  
“Are the babies safe?”  
“Babies are safe, demon is dead, I’m on my way.”  
“Love you, goodbye.”  
“Love you, too.”

Fred hung up. That’s when she noticed the clerk glaring at her.

“I was just leaving, anyway,” Fred said as she made her way out of the shop.


	13. Chapter 13

Wesley adjusted his bow tie again and checked his cuff-links, a sequence of motions he’d repeated at least eight dozen times since he put them on. Somehow on his wedding day, he’d ended up with Angel at the chapel, but no Cordelia, Gunn or Fred.

His and Cordelia’s appointment before the officiant would take place in less than an hour, unless she didn’t show up. Fred told him there’d been some surprise in the works. He didn’t like surprises of any kind. Cordi knew that. They’d talked about it during a discussion about birthday parties when he’d told her about the time his parents surprised him on his birthday with a going away party. They were sending him off to boarding school, a precursor to Watcher’s Academy. His mother cried for the duration of the party, his father didn’t look up from his newspaper the whole time and all his friends tried to pretend they weren’t miserable while choking down carob-flavoured cake. His mother had convinced herself Wesley had a nonexistant allergy to chocolate.

In short, surprises were miserable, they tasted brown and salty, they were loud disappointments.

“Maybe something else came up,” Angel said, clapping Wesley heartily on the shoulder. The vampire wore a grin on his normally somber face.

“The license is good for a month. We can always reschedule.”

“You’re right. No big deal.”

“Might you pretend to enjoy this a little less, Angel?”

“I’ll try, pal.”

Wesley checked his chronograph again, the one Cordelia had given him for his birthday after warning him in advance that she was getting him a gift regardless of his demurrals on the subject. She’d hinted strongly that he shouldn’t replace his old watch and then left the beautifully wrapped gift on his pillow so he’d see it first thing on the morning of his birthday, saving him from wondering throughout the day if a gift was forthcoming. That was the way to do a surprise.

He still hadn’t seen her wedding dress. Fred kept shooing him out of the room. Through the crack in the door he caught sight of a pair of new blue panties and her head full of hot rollers, that was all. They hadn’t even clued him in on the vision, that had fallen to him third-hand from Charles.

Seeing Angel at the hospital mid-combat had been jarring. They hadn’t spoken since Angel had fired them. At least Charles warned him that his former boss would be there.

Just then, Charles walked in with Fred at his side. Both looked very nice; Charles in his tuxedo and Fred in a lilac-coloured frock. Fred saw them and waved with just a touch too much vigor. Charles smiled and nodded as he approached.

“We really didn’t think we were going to make it, because a tractor trailer overturned but then Charles knew a shortcut and I think I flashed a bus full of seniors on one of those celebrity murder tours but you know, we’re here! So where’s the blushing bride?” Fred glanced around.

“She’s not here yet.” Angel could barely contain his glee.

“Is she okay? Charles asked.

“We left her several messages, but she has not replied.” Wesley straightened his cuff-link. Fred put her hand on his shoulder.

“The cake is fine.” Fred glanced around at everyone. “We left it on the dining room table.” She stared at her shoes. “So we’ve got that going for us.”

“Man, maybe look a little less happy?” Charles said quietly to Angel.

“I really can’t.”

Wesley took a deep breath and counted back from ten so that he wouldn’t bust up the wooden bench beside them and plunge the resulting debris in Angel’s heart. He glanced away from the ceiling when he saw the door open, and nearly whooped for joy.

“Cordelia!” He didn’t mind that he was shouting, or that he was running over to her in such an obvious way. She was an absolute vision in her wedding gown. Seeing her there was enough to make any man lose his cool.

“Sorry about the phone, but hey I made it, and with ten minutes to spare--”  
He picked her up and kissed her, mid-spin.

“Save a little something for after the vows, dear.”

Wesley opened his eyes and looked down to see Annabelle Wyndam-Pryce standing right beside Cordelia. He hadn’t even noticed her there in her gray suit with the matching hat perched on her white hair.

“Mother! I didn’t think you’d come.”

He set Cordelia down and hugged his mother, careful not to crush the spray of pink roses she had pinned to her lapel. They must have stopped somewhere for flowers.

“Oh we’re hugging now, are we? Oh dear. How very American.”

“People don’t hug in England?” Cordelia asked.

“My people tend not to.” Wesley’s chest began to hurt, as though it was being compressed from the outside. “Is father here as well?”

“No,” she clutched her purse in front of her. She seemed to be getting smaller. “He doesn’t know I’ve gone. I mean, he knows, but he thinks I’m visiting Aunt Marie.”

Wesley couldn’t help sighing in relief.

“She wanted to explain to you in person, Wes. That’s why I didn’t tell anybody I was picking her up.”

“I understand. You can tell me all about it later, but right now we should be queuing up.” He ushered his mother and Cordelia over to the area where the ceremony was to take place.

The space had crystal chandeliers and marble floors, but it was not like a church at all. More like a nice dining room in a medium range hotel. It hardly mattered. He couldn’t see much of anything but her.

They walked down the aisle together to the wedding march, even though he was fairly certain that wasn’t right. The officiant was a kind-looking round-faced woman with short blond hair. She said the vows and he repeated them. Wesley was so nervous he hardly knew what he was saying. When it got to the exchange of the rings, his hands shook as he took them out of his jacket pocket. He slid the diamond-studded band on her slim finger. She did the same with his plain, gold band. And then the woman gave him permission to kiss his wife, which he did. Their friends applauded and it was over.

All the tension he’d been feeling dropped away.  
“That kiss saved my life,” he whispered in her ear.  
“I know. That’s what I do.” She smiled at him.

**  
Cordi hadn’t expected her wedding reception to be so much fun, given that it was being held in her living room.

Lorne had gone ahead and set up a fantasia of fresh orchids and gourmet food in her apartment. There was a karaoke stage where her TV normally was. His caterers even managed to make their lowly sheet cake look gorgeous with an impromptu chocolate fountain and some ceramic figurines that looked exactly like her and Wes.

She almost fainted when she saw what he’d been able to accomplish in a few hours. Cordelia ran over and hugged him. He was decked out in the most amazing suit she’d ever seen--white tuxedo pants with a mirror ball jacket. Literally a jacket covered in tiny mirrors. It must have weighed a ton.

“Thank you, Lorne! This is spectacular.”  
“They don’t call me the host for nothing. I just wanted to let you know even if I was slow to board the love train on this one, I’m firmly on board.”  
Wesley gave Lorne’s arm a squeeze. “Lorne, you’re incredible.”  
“Thanks English muffin.”

Her friends Aura, Brie and Dakota all showed up, but the biggest shock was when the Sunnydale crew rolled in. The whole Scooby gang sans Giles arrived bearing elegantly wrapped crystal and flatwear. Her only regret was that her parents couldn’t come. Daddy was on house arrest again for violating his parole and mom was doing anther stint in rehab. They’d both been sad to miss the big day, but at least she’d see them both soon. Her “honeymoon” was going to be a trip to Sunnydale for the weekend. She’d booked them two nights at the only non-haunted B&B in the city.

Lorne opened the party by singing “Ain’t no Mountain High Enough.” He pulled Fred on the little stage with him to sing the Tammi Terrell part.

From his position on the platform, Lorne pointed to the little crowd.

“Now I expect all of you to provide tonight’s entertainment. Buffy, you look like you could really tear up some Meatloaf.”

Buffy looked embarrassed, her cheeks flushed and she ducked her bright, blonde head. “Um, the last time I sang it was kind of a disaster,” Buffy said.

“I won’t take no for an answer.”

Buffy, Willow and Xander huddled over the song book discussing options while Fred sang “Brand New Key.”

Buffy and the gang got on stage next. When the first strains of the song they chose started to play, Cordelia covered her face.

“Really you guys?”

Wesley started laughing immediately. He’d only needed half a glass of champagne for his tie to come loose. She’d never seen him so drunk, and she knew it had nothing to do with alcohol.

“This one’s for you Cordelia!” Xander said with relish. Buffy mouthed, “I’m sorry,” and Willow just grinned.

“I made it through the wilderness, somehow I made it through. Didn’t know how lost I was until I found you.”

“Like a Virgin?” Cordi threw her hands up. “Didn’t I save all your lives at least once, or wasn’t I doing that when we hung out?”

“Oooh, I’ll do ‘Holiday!’” Aura put down her fruit plate and rushed over to talk to Lorne. The great, green demon put his arm around the young woman.

“Excellent choice, punkin,” Lorne said. “Nothing gets the party going like the Immaculate Collection.”`

Mrs. Wyndam-Pryce smiled and looked around like someone who’d just been let out of a space capsule and was trying to acclimate to an alien planet. Even though she wasn’t talking to anyone, at least she seemed to be having fun. Not as much fun as Wesley, though. He hadn’t stopped grinning since they got married. He wasn’t even engaging in the conversations happening around him, just holding her waist and letting her guide him around the party.

“Look Buffy, there’s going to be a mucho importantente amulate that Angel Food Cake is going to give you. When the battle is won and all the smoke clears, you need to go back and find it. Trust me. You’ll save yourself years of heartache if you do.”

“Thanks Lorne. I’ll totally do that.” She fidgeted her hair behind her ear and leaned closer to him. 

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“I’m a little offended I didn’t merit a pastry-based nickname.”

“I’m honored you feel comfortable enough to tell me that. The truth is, I can’t make your name any cuter or more ridiculous. It just is what it is.” Lorne turned to Cordelia, “So you up for ‘Material Girl,’ Cordicopia?”

“Not tonight, Lorne. I just want to be happy without you know...knowing.” She looked up at Wesley and he gave her a moonie-eyed smile.

Charles started to sing “It was a good day,” but when he got the line about a beep from Kim, he looked at Wes’ mom.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Pryce, I don’t know what I was doing with that. There’s no way that song’s appropriate.” He got down and came back a minute later with, “Let’s Stay Together.” Then Fred joined him, and they did “Islands in the Stream.”

After all the guests took a turn singing, Wesley and Cordi cut the cake. She and Wesley had their first dance to “At Last,” while Lorne sang. Then everybody joined in the dancing. She took a turn in each guests arms. Even Willow had a dance. Cordi’s Christian Louboutins went back in the closet and she put on her furry slippers. They were having such a good time, she didn’t even notice the sun going down.

Wesley gave Lorne a break to sing, “I Got My Mind Set On You.” Cordi didn’t get to watch him, though, because Buffy cornered her in the kitchen.

“Where’s Angel?” Buffy tilted her head and sipped her Sea Breeze, looking like she’d practiced her casual pose for hours.

“That’s kind of involved.”

“Is he okay? He’s told me how close he is to you and Wes. It’s weird he’s missing this. Did he wig because he knew I was coming?”

“No, it’s a definite him not you situation. I think he’s okay, though. He came to the wedding.” Cordi wasn’t sure what to tell her, so she just told her everything. Buffy’s face dropped; Cordi felt a mix of embarrassment, guilt and pride.

“Maybe you should go see him, I mean he’s never not obsessed with you. That might remind him I was just the Sunnydale substitute while he was waiting for you to come slaying back into his life and Wes and I can get our jobs back.”

“As tantalizing as that seems, I’m sort of seeing someone. Although, he’s not really my boyfriend.”

“Sure he’s not. That’s what I was saying about Remington Steele in there until a couple weeks ago.” Cordi noticed the stunned look on Buffy’s face. “Sorry, projecting.”

“No, I think in this case you’re not so much projecty as...right. Let’s go back to the party.”

**  
When Lorne heard his friend sing, he knew without question that it was the best day of Wesley Wyndam-Pryce’s life. That made the vision that came after even more crushing somehow. He rushed out of the room before anyone saw him crying and snuck out onto the balcony so he could be alone with his horror.

He couldn’t tell them. The disaster about to befall Cordelia and Wes had to happen, or the world would be much worse off. Hundreds would die if Lorne opened his mouth in warning, not to mention the thousands of ripples across time and space.

It had to happen and then Wesley would be left with the hard choices. Scratch that, not hard, impossible. But Lorne could see far enough into the future to know Wesley would make the right one. After that it got fuzzy and gray.

As the host, he’d witnessed his share of awful premonitions. He knew which ones he could generally prevent, which ones had to happen. Usually with the fated situations, he didn’t have to see the poor sap ever again. He’d send them on their way with some Magic Eight Ball hoodoo. Not this time. This time he would have to leave town until it was all over. The temptation to spill was too much.

Lorne felt someone standing near him. He glanced over and saw Angel half hidden in shadow, watching the party from the wrong side of the glass.

“Didn’t you get your invite, big guy?” Lorne asked.  
Angel started, as though shaken from a dream. “I did. The vellum was a nice touch.”  
“I aim to please. Why aren’t you inside?”  
“They’re having such a fun time. It would be awkward, I think. Especially with Buffy there.”  
“That’s pretty noble, big guy.”  
“Noble’s what I do.” Angel smiled at him and turned. He began to quietly sing a tune. Lorne recognized it as a Johnny Cash song. “She Used To Love Me A Lot.” Angel jumped down into the alley behind Cordi’s apartment without noticing Lorne’s distress.

Lorne held onto the railing, trying not to topple onto the concrete below. This vision was even worse than the first. Angel’s future picked up where Wesley’s ended. In it, Lorne saw a path that would either lead to redemption, or death for all three.

He saw that no matter what he tried to do to prevent this second vision from coming true, his efforts would fail. The dominoes would fall in myriad ways, always with the same results. Some things were fated to happen.

There was no way he could trust himself to keep silent if he stayed in this world.  
In the morning he would find a way to hop out of this dimension.

But that night he would put on a smile and sing a happy song. After all, he had a party to host.


	14. Chapter 14

One Year Later

Amelia was crying. Again. Wesley felt someone poking him in the back. He was about to mumble to Cordelia that he indeed heard the baby and was going to get up to comfort her when he realized his arms were wrapped around his wife.

“Thank you, Dennis,” Wesley said, crisply as he disentangled from Cordelia.

Amelia squalled red-faced in her bassinet. He picked up the tiny baby and she immediately settled down, though she still choked out sobs. Despite the creaky irritation of exhaustion, her slight weight was a comfort to him.

“Wet nappies, poor sweetheart.” He put the squirmy infant down on the changing table and made quick work of her dirty diaper.  
He picked her up again and she nuzzled into his neck, rooting futilely  
“Daddy’s girl is hungry.” He carried Amelia to the bed. Cordelia hadn’t gotten up, despite the fussing.  
“Cordi, she needs you. Darling?” He cupped Cordi’s shoulder. She moaned a little bit.  
“Tired. Can you hold her?”  
“Of course.”  
Cordelia had handled the first feeding of the night on her own so he could get some sleep. Now it was four in the morning and she was clearly too knackered to stay awake for the twenty minutes it would take to breastfeed Amelia.  
He got in bed beside Cordi and she leaned against him. Her t shirt was already wet on the front from leaking milk. He set the baby down for a moment and helped Cordi take her top off. Cordelia picked up Amelia and smiled sleepily at her as she helped the baby latch onto her breast.

Wesley held them both, Cordi resting against his chest and Amelia clasped safely in his hands. He timed it on the glowing clock they’d hung on the wall. After ten minutes, he switched breasts. Cordelia continued to snore throughout. By the time Amelia finished, she was soundly asleep as well. Gently, he slid Cordi back on the mattress and put his daughter back in her bassinet. He rejoined Cordi and fell back to sleep almost instantly.

**  
Cordelia walked into the kitchen to see Wesley making a fresh pot of coffee.

“I’m so in love with you right now.” She walked over and hugged his back while he poured water in the top of the coffee maker.  
“Is it because you literally watched me slay a dragon yesterday?”  
“Hey, I helped, albeit from a distance. Mostly it’s because you’re giving me my caffeine fix.”  
“Sometimes it’s the little things.”  
“I woke up topless. Did anything fun happen when I was sleeping?”  
“I’m choosing not to be offended until you explain yourself.”  
“My dreams are kind of vivid since the visions stopped. We were doing some sexy stuff last night but apparently that was only in my imagination.”  
His whole body tensed and she felt irrationally guilty.  
“I know it’s been a long time, Wes. I’m sorry,” Cordi said.  
He turned around to face her. “Don’t. You weren’t well towards the end of the pregnancy and you’ve needed a little extra time to recover. In the grand scheme of things it’s a blip.”  
“A six month blip.”  
“I’ve been utterly exhausted, too. I’ve hardly been in the frame of mind.”  
“Well, I’m going to the doctor today, and if everything checks out we should be all clear.”  
“That’s exciting,” he said, cautiously. She knew he didn’t want to make her feel bad if the doctor gave her bad news again. Her six week appointment was supposed to be the all clear for intimacy, but the doctor had warned against it then. Cordelia had come home to candles and roses and had to tell him they were just renting movies again. “I talked to Macha after you went to sleep. She said the visions should come back on their own in a year or two. Some types of seers go through it, so it’s sort of normal. I asked her if there was anything I could do to speed it along, but she said only time will fix me.”  
“You’re not broken.” His voice was hushed.  
“That’s kind of how I feel, though. Like I’m not me anymore. Losing the baby weight has been slower than I thought.”  
“ You’re gorgeous, with or without the weight. You know I think you’re beautiful.”  
“It’s not about you, though.” She kissed his cheek, then walked around him to grab the blender. “I’m making my breakfast smoothie. Do you want one?” She gave him her brightest smile, knowing he probably wouldn’t go in for a slushy pint glass of kale sweetened with a thimbleful of strawberries.  
“No, darling. I think I’ll go out for a cup of tea and a slice when I meet with Robin.”  
“Pizza?”  
“Toast. You’ve cleansed the pantry of all carbohydrates and without them I’m dead on my feet by lunchtime.”  
She passed by him to get to the refrigerator and he snagged her by the waist.  
“I love you,” he said, the wrinkled forehead showing her how worried he was.  
“I love you, too. What is it?”  
“You’re still my hero. You know that don’t you?” He smoothed her messy hair back. She smiled up at him.  
“You’re mine, too.”

**  
Cordi had just gotten Amelia back to sleep when someone knocked on the door. Even though she no longer had her visions, she knew something was terribly wrong. She searched for her crossbow as she dialed Wesley.

She found the weapon on top of the book shelf and went to the door. Through the peephole she saw two men wearing black hoodies. What little she saw of their faces was scaley and green. Wes picked up after the third ring.

“Yes darling?”  
“Monsters. At our door.”  
Tires squealed on his side of the line.

They heard her speak and the taller one kicked the door. It was a hell of a kick, because it busted the door off of it’s hinges. The force of the blow forced Cordi onto her back, and the metal door fell on top of her. They stepped on it, crushing her.

Amelia screamed. Wesley’s voice sounded tinny and far away. Every part of her hurt and wet, warm blood spread all around her. The monsters had her daughter. As they exited, she saw her baby’s pink face swaddled in their arms. She tried to grab their legs as they passed her by, but she couldn’t move her hands at all.

“They have Amelia, Wes. They have her.”

Then everything changed. She stood above her still form. Wesley had hung up, probably to call the police and an ambulance. From where her spirit was, her body really looked like it could use an ambulance. The sound of sobs drew her attention.

A young man with dark hair knelt over her body, his face a mask of sorrow. She immediately recognized him from the research she’d done on her apartment.

“Dennis?” She fell to her knees beside him and touched his shoulder.  
“Oh Gosh, Cordi. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop them.”  
She hugged him. “It’s okay. This wasn’t your fault.”  
“What can we do?”  
“Nothing now. Just wait.”  
“I’ve always wanted you to be able to touch me, but not like this.”  
“I know sweetie. I know. What happens now, Dennis? Do I stay here with you or can I pass on to the next life.”  
“You’re not dead yet, so I don’t know.”  
“That’s good. I’d always hoped death would be a lot more or a lot less than this.”  
Dennis laughed and swiped at his tears. “You always look on the sunny side, Cordi. It’s been real neat haunting you.”  
“Thanks.” Cordi looked away from herself. “I can’t watch this any more. I can’t be here when he finds me.”

Suddenly the room became a collection of abstract shapes. Dennis looked at her wide-eyed. “That’s never happened before. I can’t even go out into the hallway.”  
“I’m a little different.” Cordi began to pace in this strange new universe. Her consciousness suddenly expanded and she knew a great many things. For instance, she knew who took Amelia and why. When she came back to herself, she saw Dennis, wide-eyed, shaking her shoulders. 

“Cordi, what’s going on, your eyes just went all white like a peeled egg.”

“It’s cool Dennis. This is all part of the weird that is me. Macha sold me out to some Crocell demons. They need a seer’s daughter to open a rift in time and they used Amelia. But she’s going to be okay. More than okay. She’s going to be amazing.”

“Will you see her again?”

“Wesley will find her. But after that it gets kind of blurry.” A stabbing pain in her forehead made her clutch her head. “Evil blurry. Enormous bad blurry. I need to get back there and stop this from happening.”

“I don’t think you can do that.”

She looked at him. “I can, but there’s something I have to do first. Why are you still kicking around that apartment, Dennis?”

“I don’t know. I thought it was some unfinished business, but then I just kept staying after you found my body. It was nice when you were there, so I didn’t mind it.”

“What’s going to happen pretty soon isn’t going to be nice, sweetie. I could help you move on to the next life.”

“How?”  
“You ever kiss a girl before?”  
He tucked his face into his shoulder to hide his aw-shucks grin. “Yeah I’ve kissed a girl for Pete’s sake.”  
“Then kiss me goodbye, Dennis.” He put his arms around her and she pressed her lips to his. He dissolved in a ball of golden light. The light flitted away like a cloud of butterflies.


	15. Chapter 15

Wesley sat at the foot of Cordelia’s hospital bed. She’d been through several hours of surgery to stop internal bleeding. Funny how she looked so clean with all the pale blue tubes in her mouth, the sterile white sheets. The mess he’d found had been set in order on the outside, yet inside she was still in disarray. Inside she was a chaos of dying cells, a voice drowned out in a medically induced coma. Outside just a quiet, clean body. Somehow not Cordelia anymore. Although, that wasn’t known. She’d lost so much blood, but there may still be brain function. Maybe under all the beeping machines and snowy casts she was still there.

He wore the evidence of what had been done to her, his shirt soaked in red blood. The police had considered it suspicious at first that he’d embrace his wife and disturb their crime scene. He reminded them that it had lately been his living room and he’d been trying to save her life. They’d asked him so many questions and all he wanted was to hold Cordelia and find his daughter. No one knew who had taken his Amelia or why.

In his desperation, he’d called Angel after the police let him go. They hadn’t spoken since the wedding, but his old friend had promised to do all he could. Wesley wanted to search for Amelia himself but he knew he wasn’t to be trusted. He wanted to burn the world right now but he couldn’t even stop his hands from shaking long enough to light a match.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and nearly started out of the chair. He stood up and looked at the person touching him. She was an elderly woman with steel gray pin curls and deep brown eyes. She reminded him a little of his mother and yet there was another reason she felt familiar. It took him a moment, and he squinted at her in surprise.

“Greta Belzug?”

She blushed girlishly and touched the Star of David necklace on her chest. Something in the gesture made his heart lurch.

“You recognize me.” She spoke with a light German accent.

“I saw you speak when I went to University. But why on earth are you here right now?”

She took a deep breath, and spoke carefully, as though she’d rehearsed a monologue.

“There’s something impossible I must tell you. There is another reason you know me, one that will be hard to accept. My life, the lives of my children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren all depend on you Mr. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. You see, you are my father. My real father. To you I was Amelia.”

Wesley couldn’t help himself. He let out a harsh laugh. “My daughter is three months old.”

“Yes, she was this morning. Then some monsters came. They opened a portal that led to Berlin in the year 1925. They left me there. I was taken in by the Belzug family. Myra was childless.”

“I know.” Wesley shook off the old woman’s hand. “Myra and Akiva Belzug raised you as their own after finding you in a basket in the snow. Your visions saved more than two hundred and fifty people during the war. You went on to save hundreds more throughout your lifetime. You have three children, your eldest daughter is also a seer, as is your granddaughter.”

“Amelia. My granddaughter is named Amelia. She has a daughter herself who is only six months old. Your inclination is to find me and reverse what has been done. I’ve followed your career your whole life, father.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“No. You are my father, and as I said, I know your work. You have the ability to reverse the effects of the portal. If you do, you will condemn thousands of people to death, including your own grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and great-great-grandchildren. Please don’t undo my life’s work.”

“How could you think--”

“Psychic here.” The way she said it reminded him so much of Cordelia, he wanted to cry. Greta continued, “I know a small part of you is still thinking of all the good I could do in the future, but I’ve lived my life. Please don’t erase everything I’ve done in this world. I’m begging you. I live with my legacy every day, as could you. My family knows about you and mother. We would welcome you with love. It’s been difficult watching you my whole life, knowing I couldn’t speak to you until today. Knowing I could not speak to my mother.” She looked at Cordelia, her eyes wet. “She is so beautiful, even now.”

“Yes. Yes she is.”

“I spoke at your university because I wanted to see your face in the crowd. You were so young then and handsome. It meant the world to me because every child hopes she will make her father proud.”

“I’m still having trouble with all of this.”

“I understand, but you must call your Mr. Angel and tell him to come back to the hospital. He’s about to stumble upon the remnants of the portal. A creature there with green scales will tell him how to reverse the spell. He will accomplish this and save Amelia, in effect destroying me. Please father.”

Wesley hesitated, still skeptical of all this and yet knowing for certain it was true. He remembered in detail the lecture Greta Belzug gave, the way she seemed to stare into him throughout. With a sense of heaviness, he dug out his phone and called Angel.

“What is it, Wes, I’m kinda in the middle of something.”  
“Come back to the hospital now. Drop whatever you’re doing.”  
Wesley heard a heavy thud on the other end of the line.  
“No problem. See you in a bit.” Angel hung up.  
Greta smiled and squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”  
“Do you know what’s going to happen to Cordelia?”  
Greta looked down, fiddling with the heavy gold ring on her finger. “I can’t see what happens, no matter how hard I try. None of the girls can see, either.”  
“I can’t lose her.”  
“No matter what happens, we are your family. You are not alone.”  
“That’s very kind, but this is all quite...overwhelming.”  
“Of course. When you’re ready then, I would be honored to be your daughter.” She patted his shoulder.  
“I don’t wish to offend you, but I’d like to be with my wife now.”  
Her face fell and he couldn’t help feeling a pang of remorse for hurting her feelings. “I will be back tomorrow evening if that is good. Perhaps I can bring Amelia. She wishes to meet you.”  
Hearing that name made him wince.  
“Yes, that would be fine.” He didn’t look at Greta as she left.  
After she’d gone, he dragged his chair around to the top of Cordi’s bed. He took her hand in his and wept.


	16. Chapter 16

Charlie wasn’t much for hand holding, especially with another guy, but he couldn’t tell Wesley to let go. They’d been sitting at the foot of Cordelia’s bed for so long his back was starting to hurt from the garbage chair they had at the hospital. Ergonomic his ass, and lower back too. Wesley kept clutching his hand to make different, rambling points. Charles couldn’t figure most of it out, but he listened and nodded. He wasn’t sure if his friend had really slept in the past three days.

Fred was the one who convinced Wes to take off that bloody shirt and get in the shower. His daughter--and if that didn’t blow Charlie’s tiny, little mind that Wes and Cordi’s daughter qualified for the senior discount at the hospital cafe--had been in charge of making sure Wes ate. Charles had been there to listen and make sure Wes didn’t kill anybody. That had been a real discussion, whether or not Wes was going to go out and kill the woman who set up Cordi. In the end, they convinced him it wasn’t what Cordelia would want. But Charles wasn’t sure if Wes was only humoring them until he could get out of their sight.

Something had to give. Cordi had to get better or, and Charles hated to even think it, worse. At least if she passed, they could drag Wes away from her side and try to get him sane again.

“Charles, you’ve got to tell her every day.”  
“I know, man. I do.”  
“It’s not enough though. It’ll never be enough. Fred is an amazing person. You should marry her. Make her coffee in the morning. At least Cordi and I had the little things and we were each others’ for a little while. You and Fred are exceptional. You deserve that.”  
Charles heard someone clearing his throat by the door, and looked away from Wes’ wasted face to see Angel leaning in the doorway. Angel hadn’t been by all week, not since he first saw her.  
“Angel, good of you to come. Cordelia has been asking,” Wesley said.  
“She woke up? Why didn’t anybody call me.”  
Charlie shook his head and stood up. “No, she hasn’t even blinked. He’s been talking to her in his head.”  
“She stands over my right shoulder.” Wesley clutched at his shoulder and a faint smile curved his lips.”She records all I do.”  
“Um, Wes, I just came by to talk to you about Macha.”  
“She’s dead, isn’t she?”  
“Wes, did you do something…” Charlie knew his friend was acquainted with some of the seedier parts of the demon underworld. It wouldn’t take much to order a hit.  
“No. Cordelia told me. She said you won’t find the creatures who kidnapped Amelia. They’ve already hopped dimension.”  
Angel’s mouth hung open. “That’s what my sources said, too.”  
“So I guess it’s over then,” Charles said, looking uncomfortably from Angel to Wes.  
“It’s not over. It will never be over until Cordelia is back to the way she was before,” Angel said.  
Wesley gazed at his wife’s bruised face. “She told me she wants to go home. I keep trying to explain that it’s too soon, but she told me time won’t make it right. She wants to go home before it’s too late. I have to speak to Greta about it before any decisions are made, but she’s wearing me down. You know Cordelia.”  
“Charles, could you speak with me in the hall please.” Angel said.  
“Sure.” He patted Wesley’s hand and spoke to him slowly. “I’ll be right back, man. If you need anything, you know where to go.”  
Wesley nodded. Charles left the room with Angel. When they were out of earshot, Angel spoke.  
“Do you really think he’s capable of making medical decisions for her. He’s out of his mind.”  
“I don’t know. Most of the time he seems all nuts and no cracker jacks, but once in a while, he knows stuff he shouldn’t know. Like that stuff about Macha. There's a real possibility Cordelia is contacting him from wherever she’s at. We’ve seen much weirder.”  
“But what if he’s not talking to her? Don’t you think we should intervene?”  
“Greta is taking care of him, man. I think we should stay out of it until he’s had a little more time to adjust.”  
“And you trust Greta?”  
“Fred took cheek swabs on Greta and Wes, then she had a friend of hers who works at the university run a DNA test. Wes is definitely the daddy. Waiting is probably the best thing right now. He hasn’t been away from Cordi’s bedside for almost a week. That and all he’s getting used to would drive anybody crazy for at least a little while.”  
“I’m not good with doing nothing.”  
“None of us are, but that’s the situation.”  
“I can’t be here anymore.” Angel turned around and began walking down the hall.  
Charles yelled after him, “Well I’m glad you put on your big boy vampire panties and managed to see her for five seconds.”  
“Go to hell, Gunn,” Angel shouted back.  
“Of the two of us, it ain’t gonna be me.” Charlie said to himself.


	17. Chapter 17

Charlie wasn’t much for hand holding, especially with another guy, but he couldn’t tell Wesley to let go. They’d been sitting at the foot of Cordelia’s bed for so long his back was starting to hurt from the garbage chair they had at the hospital. Ergonomic his ass, and lower back too. Wesley kept clutching his hand to make different, rambling points. Charles couldn’t figure most of it out, but he listened and nodded. He wasn’t sure if his friend had really slept in the past three days.

Fred was the one who convinced Wes to take off that bloody shirt and get in the shower. His daughter--and if that didn’t blow Charlie’s tiny, little mind that Wes and Cordi’s daughter qualified for the senior discount at the hospital cafe--had been in charge of making sure Wes ate. Charles had been there to listen and make sure Wes didn’t kill anybody. That had been a real discussion, whether or not Wes was going to go out and kill the woman who set up Cordi. In the end, they convinced him it wasn’t what Cordelia would want. But Charles wasn’t sure if Wes was only humoring them until he could get out of their sight.

Something had to give. Cordi had to get better or, and Charles hated to even think it, worse. At least if she passed, they could drag Wes away from her side and try to get him sane again.

“Charles, you’ve got to tell her every day.”  
“I know, man. I do.”  
“It’s not enough though. It’ll never be enough. Fred is an amazing person. You should marry her. Make her coffee in the morning. At least Cordi and I had the little things and we were each others’ for a little while. You and Fred are exceptional. You deserve that.”  
Charles heard someone clearing his throat by the door, and looked away from Wes’ wasted face to see Angel leaning in the doorway. Angel hadn’t been by all week, not since he first saw her.  
“Angel, good of you to come. Cordelia has been asking,” Wesley said.  
“She woke up? Why didn’t anybody call me.”  
Charlie shook his head and stood up. “No, she hasn’t even blinked. He’s been talking to her in his head.”  
“She stands over my right shoulder.” Wesley clutched at his shoulder and a faint smile curved his lips.”She records all I do.”  
“Um, Wes, I just came by to talk to you about Macha.”  
“She’s dead, isn’t she?”  
“Wes, did you do something…” Charlie knew his friend was acquainted with some of the seedier parts of the demon underworld. It wouldn’t take much to order a hit.  
“No. Cordelia told me. She said you won’t find the creatures who kidnapped Amelia. They’ve already hopped dimension.”  
Angel’s mouth hung open. “That’s what my sources said, too.”  
“So I guess it’s over then,” Charles said, looking uncomfortably from Angel to Wes.  
“It’s not over. It will never be over until Cordelia is back to the way she was before,” Angel said.  
Wesley gazed at his wife’s bruised face. “She told me she wants to go home. I keep trying to explain that it’s too soon, but she told me time won’t make it right. She wants to go home before it’s too late. I have to speak to Greta about it before any decisions are made, but she’s wearing me down. You know Cordelia.”  
“Charles, could you speak with me in the hall please.” Angel said.  
“Sure.” He patted Wesley’s hand and spoke to him slowly. “I’ll be right back, man. If you need anything, you know where to go.”  
Wesley nodded. Charles left the room with Angel. When they were out of earshot, Angel spoke.  
“Do you really think he’s capable of making medical decisions for her. He’s out of his mind.”  
“I don’t know. Most of the time he seems all nuts and no cracker jacks, but once in a while, he knows stuff he shouldn’t know. Like that stuff about Macha. There's a real possibility Cordelia is contacting him from wherever she’s at. We’ve seen much weirder.”  
“But what if he’s not talking to her? Don’t you think we should intervene?”  
“Greta is taking care of him, man. I think we should stay out of it until he’s had a little more time to adjust.”  
“And you trust Greta?”  
“Fred took cheek swabs on Greta and Wes, then she had a friend of hers who works at the university run a DNA test. Wes is definitely the daddy. Waiting is probably the best thing right now. He hasn’t been away from Cordi’s bedside for almost a week. That and all he’s getting used to would drive anybody crazy for at least a little while.”  
“I’m not good with doing nothing.”  
“None of us are, but that’s the situation.”  
“I can’t be here anymore.” Angel turned around and began walking down the hall.  
Charles yelled after him, “Well I’m glad you put on your big boy vampire panties and managed to see her for five seconds.”  
“Go to hell, Gunn,” Angel shouted back.  
“Of the two of us, it ain’t gonna be me.” Charlie said to himself.


	18. Chapter 18

Wesley woke up in a hospital bed, his arm tethered to a plastic bag of saline solution. He panicked, confused until Angel came into the room carrying a cup of coffee.  
“You’re awake.” Angel leaned in the doorway, a grim expression on his face.  
“What happened? Where is everyone?”  
“You collapsed about twenty-four hours ago. You’re being treated for severe dehydration. I sent Greta home to get some sleep. Gunn and Fred are on a case.”  
“How is Cordelia? Has there been any change?”  
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Her doctor said there is brain activity, Wes. The injuries to her body are severe, but there’s a good chance she’s going to come out of this.”  
Angel sidled up to the bed. He dragged a chair over that sounded unbearably loud as it scraped along the tile floor. He sat down and leaned in, folding his hands.  
“But she told me it’s impossible,” Wes said.  
“Greta can have her transferred to the best neurological institute in the country.”  
“She doesn’t want to be moved, Angel. I can’t go against her wishes.”  
“Wesley, I don’t think you’re really talking to Cordelia. The real Cordelia would want to fight. I can’t see her giving up.”  
“It shocked me, too, but she said she doesn’t want to go on living if it’s like this. It’s killing me, but if I don’t intervene something terrible will happen.”  
“Are you sure it’s not...not that you don’t think you can take care of her if she’s confined to a wheelchair, because we can help you.”  
“How dare you.”  
“Please, Wes, hear me out.”  
“You don’t know what I have done, what I would do for her. I love her enough to let her go, even though I know I won’t survive it.”  
Just then, Wesley felt the weight of her hand on his right shoulder. “What is it, darling?”  
“Did you just call me darling?” Angel’s face scrunched up.  
“Not you, her. She’s here with me.”  
He heard Cordelia’s voice in his ear. “Maybe you should listen to him, baby.”  
“You never used to call me baby.”  
“Almost dying does funny things to a girl. Tell him that you’ll listen to everything he says if he agrees to leave us alone.”  
“He won’t do that.” Wesley said, glancing up in hopes of seeing her outline. Usually it was just the voice. The soft touch. This time was no different.  
“It’s worth a try. Just ask,” Cordi said.  
“She says if you’re willing to leave us alone, we’ll do as you ask.”  
“Wes.”  
“Please Angel. She’s afraid of what this is going to do to you. We both are. Part of me thinks I deserve this after everything I’ve done.”  
“No Wes!” Cordi said.  
“But why should he believe me now, when I lied. “  
“Could you not search your soul right this second, baby? I think we’re losing him again.”  
“Sorry.” He looked over at Angel, who was looking increasingly confused. “I don’t want her to die. She’s everything to me. If we can prevent this. You can prevent this Angel.”  
“Wesley, you’re not making sense,” Angel said.  
“Cordelia, can’t you explain it to him?”  
“If I could do that do you really think I’d be literally driving my husband insane? No. The answer is no. I’ve tried to contact him through dreams, visions, mysterious portents. I even left a post-it on his desk. Nada. I think something is mystically blocking him.”  
“Angel, she said she left you a post-it. Have you been feeling mystically...blocked?”  
“Um, vampires don’t really have that problem. Why don’t I let you get some sleep, Wes.”  
Wesley reached out and grabbed Angel’s hand. “I’m not crazy, Angel. Something bad is coming. She’s afraid for you and if she’s afraid for you she fears for the whole world.”  
Angel squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, buddy. Whatever you need, you’ll have. It’s going to be okay.”

**  
When Angel stepped out of the elevator, he found the hospital’s parking garage was mostly dark. Dusk was just settling around the city, making the smoggy sky a nicotine yellow. Angel decided to wait out the sun for the next few minutes until it set completely. The elevator doors slid open and out stepped the last person he wanted to see.  
“Lila.”  
She appraised him, sloe-eyed from behind her wavy curtain of hair. She was like an evil, brunette Veronica Lake. He’d never liked Veronica Lake. Loretta Young was always more his speed.  
“We can save Cordelia.”  
Her words rooted him to the spot.  
“What do you want?”  
“We’d like you to head up the L.A. branch of Wolfram & Hart.”  
“Why would you think I’d ever do that?”  
“To save the woman you love.”  
“And what’s the catch? Not the long term one, because that’s pretty obvious. What do you want as a sign up fee?”  
“Sign up fee. That’s cute. We want to wipe the memory of Cordelia Chase from the minds of her family, friends and nebbier acquaintances. Basically, you’d be the only one who knows she exists.”  
“Now tell me, Lila, why would Wolfram & Hart want to do that?”  
“My boss said to give you some b.s. answer but I respect you too much for that. We’ve got history, haven’t we Angel?”  
“Spit it out, Lila, before I choke it out.”  
“Zing. Not really. You must be heartbroken. Your quips are pretty subpar tonight.”  
Angel grabbed her by the throat and shoved her against the wall. “I guess you’re right. A joke isn’t really funny if you have to explain it.”  
She clawed futilely at his hand, her bedroom eyes popped wide open.“Because that will make it easier for you to succumb to your dark side. The senior partners think you’ll crack twice as fast if Saint Cordelia is completely at your mercy with no family, no friends. Make you nostalgic for the old days.”  
“But you think better of me.”  
“Of course not. I think you’ll fail, and it won’t even matter that you knew it was a trap. You’ll go charging in, all Champion-like with the noblest of intentions but then you’ll get a feel of how soft her skin is, how sweet her voice sounds, how nice it is to be needed. Men are pretty easy like that.”  
“You keep forgetting, I’m not really a man.” He dropped Lila and she landed in a sprawl on the concrete.  
“You better hope she doesn’t forget.” Lila croaked as she gathered herself up to stand. “Or maybe you do. Maybe you’re just a vampire with a soul who’s hoping he can balance crime-fighting and parenthood with finally finding that special someone. Maybe you think you really can have it all. I don’t care. Bring your crew to our downtown offices for a tour, nine a.m. sharp. We’ll show them all the amenities.”  
“What makes you think I’ll show up?”  
“We have a history together.” Lila walked away from him without looking back


	19. Chapter 19

Wesley woke up completely disoriented. He rolled out of bed and landed hard on the floor.  
“Ow, Jesus.” He recognized the green walls of his bedroom. Slowly, he got to his feet. His living room with the sad little bachelor drinks cart and the sponge painted blue walls the previous tenant had thought was chic. His desk piled high with books. The tiny eat-in kitchen.

For some reason he touched his throat. There was no scar, of course there wasn’t. She had taken it all away. Someone warm and soft had kissed him in order to save his life. She smelled like amber and mulled basil, fresh, bright and young. He had the vague notion that once she’d given him everything she had to give and he’d lost it all.

There she was, just out of his reach. Her name on the tip of his tongue but strangely elusive. When he thought on this woman, his head began to hurt. He couldn’t even remember what her face looked like. Only a flash of a smile. Eyes that might be black or brown losing focus. Maybe it was just dream.

Of course it was. He could hear his father’s voice inside his head. Every time he imagined something critical, it had always been in his father’s voice.

“You had a dream that you meant something to someone, but it was just that. You are 35-years-old, unmarried, childless. The longest relationship you’ve ever had was with a girl called Saffron Dale and that lasted less than a year before she left you for another man. Your sexual tastes waver between offputtingly strange to deadeningly conventional. You have the emotional maturity of a blueberry scone.

The only woman who has been on your mind for the past few years is Winifred Burkle who is in love with your best friend Charlie. He is bigger, stronger and better than you in most ways, which is why you are particularly proud of your education, because this is the sole thing denied him by circumstances. At least your petty jealousy has no racial component, despite the way I raised you.

Even though you took a bullet for him, you’re still angry with him for stealing your girl.”

“No, I’m not.” Wesley said out loud, to no one. He had no feelings left for Fred, or animosity toward Charlie for that matter. Charlie never stole anything.

That’s right, Wes. She has the right to choose who she loves. You can’t steal a person like that. You know how a person gets stolen. You know how a life disappears.

That voice was not his father’s, not his own. It was high and sweet and just a touch too sarcastic. Even though his mystery woman didn’t have a face or a name, she had a voice and this was hers. He knew that with the certainty that he could see his own hand, and yet nothing else was certain. Nothing made sense.

The alarm on his watch went off, reminding him it was time to take his medication. He hated that fucking watch; sleek, plastic modern. He’d have much preferred something more elegant and precise. Solid metal with old-fashioned gears turning hands. A chronograph.

The buzzer wouldn’t stop, scattering his thoughts again. He had to take his pills, that would set things to right. Usually his pills made the voices stop, so he must not have been taking them regularly. That could be...bad. The last time he’d forgotten to take his medication he’d had a violent row with Angel, destroyed part of the hotel. Only since he’d agreed to see a doctor about his hallucinations had he been let back into the fold.

He went to his cabinet and opened the Monday compartment of his weekly pill case.

Wes, you didn’t lay those out for yourself. Try to remember, baby. Please don’t block me out. Think about Amelia.

He squeezed his eyes shut to beat back his headache. Why had she mentioned his grandmother’s name? What was that supposed to do, he wondered. He swallowed the three capsules.

“Nothing, indeed, is more revolting to English feelings than the spectacle of a human being obtruding on our notice his moral ulcers or scars, and tearing away that “decent drapery” which time or indulgence to human frailty may have drawn over them--” His father quoting DeQuincey to him made Wesley want to laugh.

In a second he’d get it under control. In a second he could get ready for his first day at work.

Wolfram & Hart. How on earth were they all working at Wolfram & Hart?


	20. Chapter 20

Angel sat by Cordi’s bedside, holding her limp hand. It had only been a few days, but already she was breathing on her own. Regardless of whatever price they had to pay, that in and of itself was worth it. The doctors had moved her into a suite attached to his penthouse. The walls were white and there were machines Angel didn’t know how to use but looked reassuringly medical. They’d brought in a lot of her possessions after they liquidated the apartment she shared with Wesley, including her wedding pictures. It was hard to look at Wes smiling like that, harder to see Cordi by his side looking healthy and hale.

He hadn’t been able to face Wesley yet. When the mind wipe took place, the demon who imprisoned Wesley’s old memories showed Angel some of them, things he thought Angel should know. At first it had seemed like a violation, but what he was shown proved to be irresistible. There had been an alternate reality, something Cordelia had fixed.

Wesley had kidnapped his son, which kicked off a series of events that resulted in Connor being sent to a hell dimension and aging into a sullen teenager. Wesley’s throat had been cut by a redhead who worked for Holtz. Angel had tried to smother Wesley. He’d continued in isolation until Cordi came to reverse the tragedy. The Powers That Be had arranged for her to go to Wesley. Everything changed with a kiss.

Angel was eternally grateful for her part in the whole thing. It made him love her more.

Not the case with Wes, though. Whatever remorse he felt for taking Cordelia away from her husband dwindled as he watched what Wesley had done. That was probably the reason the demon had showed it to him. Even though Angel knew he was being manipulated, it didn’t change how he felt. Angel skimmed through Wesley’s thoughts until he found the first night he and Cordelia made love. He’d been curious to know how it happened. He watched their date unfold, listened to her talk about how she was in love with Angel, how her attraction to Wesley wasn’t real.

The gold light swarming around them was interference by the Powers That Be. Greta was fated to be born, so whatever happened between Wesley and Cordi was out of their control. Angel knew she’d been in love with him; he’d felt it for years and finally had confirmation from her own lips. Sort of.

He reminded himself it wasn’t Wesley’s fault and there was no reason to be angry with him. Except that as he kissed Cordelia’s lax fingers and rose to begin their first day at work, he was very, very angry.


	21. Chapter 21

Charles was the one who’d been getting things done. In the month they’d been there, he’d fired about fifty employees, gotten rid of all of that necromancer’s assets and saved the city from a possible toxic attack. He’d done a great deal of good. Wesley wasn’t sure why Charles’ accomplishments bothered Fred so much.

“It’s like he’s Mr. Wolfram & Hart. I feel like I don’t even know him any more.” She hadn’t touched her wine, but she’d devoured the plate of spaghetti he’d made for her, plus all of his meatballs. She went in for another forkful of his dinner. Wesley decided to expedite things and just switched his full plate with her empty one. This was their ritual since they’d been having dinners at his place. She’d initially insisted upon dining with him at least twice a week because she suspected he wasn’t eating. Sadly, having a companion hadn’t helped his appetite, but he did enjoy having her over.

“Thank you.” She spooned in a mouthful, chewed daintily, then continued talking. “I feel like he’s a stranger, Wes. Charles and I have been together so long but suddenly he’s singing show tunes and yesterday he talked to me about having his sleep removed. It’s inhuman. And Angel is just gone all the time. I had to send Knox over to deal with this werewolf attack in the park. Not only did the werewolf and the woman he bit die, but Knox got infected. Now he’s disappeared. I don’t know what’s going on. I went to talk to Angel about it, he just sketched the whole time. Like didn’t look me in the eye.”

“I’m sorry, Fred.”  
“I just don’t know how we even got here. One minute we’re doing fine at the hotel, then all of a sudden, Angel wants us to go on the tour of our dedicated enemies’ state of the art resources. And I thought it was some intelligence gathering operation. You weren’t even with us, then. It was all so fuzzy. I don’t remember saying yes. Do you, Wes?”

“You know things have been bad with my perceptions for a long time, Fred. I don’t recall consenting to this job. I only remember waking up the morning of with this feeling of utter...and it hasn’t gone away. Nothing I’ve done makes it go away.”

“Utter what?” She leaned toward him, her intelligent eyes filled with concern. Some part of him thought he’d once longed for her to look at him that way.  
“I can’t quite find the word. As though my heart’s been taken out and replaced with sawdust.”  
“Oh my god.” She reached across the table and took his hand. It seemed to be happening far away from him, with a great depth of water in between himself and reality.  
“It’s no reason to be concerned. I’ve felt this way before. When my parents first sent me away to boarding school. Except this time it’s a bit worse, or maybe better. Then I’d have these raw moments where it would all be too much and I’d have to get away from people to work it out. Now I can’t feel anything. The absent heart. I’m losing time. I wake up at my desk, notes in my hand that I don’t remember writing. I’ve spoken with Angel about it, hoping he’d let me go. I’m useless to the team, getting worse every day. He said he can’t spare me, though. I’ve been seeing a therapist. He upped my dosage of medication. It’s only making me more obtuse.”  
“This isn’t right, Wes. Something is very wrong here.”  
“I know. You’re the only one who seems to believe me, Fred. I’m grateful for that.”  
She smiled at him as she got up and moved around the table. Out of politeness, he stood as well.  
“This was a really yummy dinner.” She put her arms around him, her hands on the sides of his face. “How are you at making breakfast?”  
“I’m told I make a good waffle.” Except he couldn’t remember who told him that. It was a woman with long dark hair. In his dreams he knew she was very beautiful even though he could never see her face. This dark-haired woman gave him everything once and he’d lost it. How had he lost it?

He looked down at Fred and realized her face was rushing up to his. She kissed his open mouth. She tasted like garlic. He didn’t move a muscle. He scarcely dared to breathe. She recoiled from him, shame and disappointment on her lovely face.

“Oh Lordy, I’m sorry. Signals. I misread them. I’m going to go. I think I should go.” She flitted out of his arms and began looking for her purse. When she found it behind the couch, she lifted it triumphantly over her head. “Got it! I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

“Yes. I ought to see you out,” he said with relief, for he’d remembered the appropriate thing to do in accordance with the situation.

She held up both her hands. “No! That’s okay. Just stay where you are. I can find my own way out.” She went to the door of his apartment and left.

He stood there for a moment before he mechanically began to collect the plates. Once a kiss from Fred would have been everything to him. Now it only reminded him that he’d lost something precious. Pain that moved like lightning crackled in his head, distracting him as he set the plate down on the counter. It fell down and shattered on the floor. He followed the plate, crumpling into a heap before his kitchen sink.

**  
Wesley and his dream woman had had awkward sex in the front seat of his car, with the steering wheel digging in at odd places, but he’d made her come. He knew she wasn’t faking it because she’d shown him how to get her off using his thumb. The way she’d grabbed his hand and taken charge was the sexiest thing that had ever happened to him.

And afterward she’d wanted to come to his place. She’d stripped away his clothes, piece by piece and shoved him on the bed, then made a show of taking off her own. He was glad he’d already finished, because if he hadn’t he wouldn’t have lasted a minute. Her body was so beautiful and she was completely in control of it. She cared about her own pleasure and thought he could please. When she was naked, she laid on her stomach, her dark hair falling over her face. He’d never seen anything so perfect before.

“Your waist is staggeringly small.” He kissed the valley of her spine. She wiggled underneath him.

“Staggering, huh? That’s a new one.” He stopped himself from asking how many men had seen her like this. It was rude, more to the point it didn’t matter. There was no room for masculine posturing between them.

He kissed around the tattoo on the small of her back.

“Your tattoo is very interesting. What made you decide to get the sun and moon?”

She laughed, making her chest bounce. “That was something I did in high school. Harmony and I were born a week apart, so we always celebrate our birthdays together. She wanted to get tattoos for our eighteenth, so I went. She brought this elaborate drawing and I just picked mine out from the pictures on the wall.”

“But why this particular design?”

She huffed and buried her face in her arms. “Can’t it just be pretty, Wes? Not everything means something, except that I was shallow back then.”

“Hardly. This is an ancient image of protection for people who fight creatures of the night, the sun embracing the moon symbolizing safe passage through the darkness. You were far more intuitive than you thought.”

“Wow, so I’m a secret genius. Who knew?”

“What did Harmony get?”  
“A unicorn with wings.”  
“An alicorn.”  
“You’re so precise. I never appreciated that until tonight. I guess the design was based on her first horse, Palimony. What does an alicorn symbolize?”  
“That Harmony had as much depth as the pocket of her Lisa Frank folder.”  
“You’re mean, but right.”  
“I’m a mean man, darling.” He spread her legs apart. She arched her back and glanced over her shoulder, a sliver of a smile. He covered her with his body and wrapped one arm around her shoulders, holding her like that for leverage as he thrust inside her. She gasped, and dug her nails into his arm.  
“You’re calling me darling now?” Her breath came faster. “That’s not casual fun.”  
“This isn’t casual to me.” He sped up, wanting to drown her response in pleasure, distract her before she could tell him it wasn’t like that for her. “I’m very serious about fucking you.”  
“I didn’t know you knew that word.”  
“I know a lot of interesting things.”

Suddenly the dream changed. He sat on a couch in a familiar apartment, fully clothed. He glanced over as she walked into the room. Her belly was swollen and every step she took looked like it hurt. She wore a white cardigan the length of a bathrobe and he knew she’d worn it every day since her health had turned. It was her cashmere security blanket. Her face was still indistinct, even when she sat beside him and placed a rattling bowl of popcorn in his lap.  
“I know a lot of interesting things, Wes. Just because I’m not cultural the same way you are doesn’t mean I have no sense of culture.”  
“I was only teasing when I said that, darling. You always come up with most of the answers when we do pub quiz.” He shook the bowl like he was panning for gold. “What happened? Most of these kernels are unpopped.”  
“What can I say, I got impatient with the microwave.” She plunged her hand into the bowl and grabbed a handful of popcorn. “But like I was saying, you’ve never seen ‘Horse Feathers,’ and it’s a classic. Meanwhile you’re all on my case because I just skimmed ‘War and Peace.’”  
“That is a very important book, and you really should read it. I doubt People Magazine will stand the test of time.”  
“Hey there Mister Snippy, we all like our mindless entertainment. Don’t pretend I didn’t catch you watching Gallagher when I came home yesterday.”  
“The watermelon never gets old.” He said sheepishly. “My point remains, it’s not my fault there are vast gaps in my knowledge of popular culture. When I was growing up, we didn’t own a television and my father thought films were populist tripe.”  
“That was your point? I thought your point was that I should read ‘War and Peace.’”  
“He took away my dessert for a month when he caught me watching cartoons with the gardner’s son.”  
“Could we just watch the movie, babe. Reliving your childhood trauma isn’t the way I want to spend my Saturday night.”  
“You are grouchy tonight. Whatever did I do?”  
“Besides putting a baby in me and letting me eat unlimited jars of peanut butter before bed when I should be watching my calorie intake, nothing. You’re kind of great.” She started to cry, which was incredibly disconcerting because he couldn’t see her face. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk, but I’m fat and uncomfortable and I’m terrified all the time that something bad will happen to the baby. I was kind of prepared for the first two, but no one said it would be this brand new kind of scary. What if I’m a horrible father like your dad?”

“That is impossible, for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that you are loving and affectionate and even at your most unkind you could never hurt our baby.”

“Wes, I was an awful person in high school. Awful.”

“You still managed to be the only person in that group of heroes who even tried to make me feel like I belonged. I can never forget that.”

“Thank you,” she said as she buried her shadowed face in his shoulder.

“I’m afraid, too. But if it makes you feel marginally better, you are more beautiful to me now than you’ve ever been. You’re all I want, and honestly there is a great deal of wiggle room for you to gain weight. I can’t stop staring at your bosoms, it’s quite distracting actually. If they got even bigger I may never be able to take my eyes off of them again.”

She laughed out loud, just like he hoped she would.

“I love you, you pervert.” She hunched over suddenly, her hand on the round swell of her belly. “I think I’m going into labor, Wes.”

The solid shape of her body ran out of his arms like a bag of sand and he was alone again.

**  
Wesley woke up in bed to the sound of his alarm. For a moment he thought he was still in the dream and expected to see her lying beside him. Then he remembered he was alone, the unfortunate kiss from Fred and passing out in the kitchen. He sat up and winced. There was a lancing pain in his shoulder where he landed. His left arm was bruised. He didn’t remember getting off of the floor, or putting on his pajamas, but he must have.

Hadn’t he?

He dragged himself to his feet and shambled to the kitchen. The dishes were done and put away. Someone had cleaned up the broken plate. Seeing that he lived by himself, it must have been him.

Wesley opened the cabinet and took down his pill box. There were five pills in the compartment for Friday. Somehow there was an extra red pill when he knew there’d only been four white ones the day before. Instead of taking his medication as he normally did, Wesley palmed them. Maybe it was worth it, just for today to see if he could function without them. It was a measure of his paranoia that he pretended to swallow them.

He heard his father’s voice booming in his head: Don’t do it, son. This is how you slip away. You know what happens when a schizophrenic stops his medication. Last time you stopped taking it you turned on all your friends. You tried to kill Fred and you staked Charles in the leg. If Angel hadn’t drained you half to death you would have destroyed them. If you do this, there’s no turning back.

Wesley knew the consequences might be dire, but he couldn’t imagine anything could possibly be worse than this.


	22. Chapter 22

The nurse had taught Angel how to massage Cordi’s legs so that when she eventually woke up, her mobility wouldn’t be as impeded. It wasn’t the same as walking around, but he could still work the muscles so they wouldn’t completely atrophy.

For the past two months he’d made it part of his nightly ritual. He’d play with Connor until bed time, bathe his son, dress him and then read him his story. After putting his boy to bed, he’d have some otter blood and then a beer. Then it was time to take care of Cordi. He’d tell her about his work while he rubbed her down. He didn’t know if she could hear him, but the doctor said talking to her was supposed to help.

Mia and Jade, Cordi’s night nurses, left them alone when he came in the room. He knew the only reason they did that was because he was the big boss. No one else was allowed to be alone with Cordelia. She always had a staff of at least two on when he wasn’t around, and there were cameras so he could make sure no one was abusing her.

Every day Cordelia seemed to look better and better. Her bruises had healed and her casts removed. He was proud of her lack of bedsores.

He picked his favorite lotion from the ones on the shelf. It was the kind she used to keep in her desk when they first started working together, before Wes joined them. It smelled like vanilla and coconut and cost an unbelievable amount at the cosmetics counter.

“Mia said you moved your hand some more today,” he said to Cordi. He walked over and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. It was getting really long. He wasn’t sure if he should have someone cut it for her or not. She looked terrific with long hair. So young.

He started by sliding off her rings, then rubbing each finger. Her palms, her wrist, down her arm.  
“I saw Wes today. He didn’t seem as scattered as usual. That’s good, right?” He repeated the process on her other side.  
“Charlie and Fred broke up. Neither of them told me. I had to hear it from Harmony. I guess it happened a few weeks ago.” He walked over to her feet. Her insteps had grown soft. It felt so good to touch them, he always spent extra time on the soles. “It’s funny, I’m the boss but nobody tells me anything.” Her calfs were smooth. He had a woman come in to wax Cordi’s legs, because he figured she’d be mortified otherwise.

Once he’d finished on her legs came the uncomfortable part. Her stomach and her back. When the nurse showed him what to do, she’d used a sheet to cover every part she wasn’t massaging. He’d done that at first, but somewhere along the line he’d stopped. It was too cumbersome and there was no one else there to see her, anyway.

After the first week in hospital gowns, he’d gotten special nightgowns made for her all in brightly colored satin and silk. Cordi wasn’t a drab kind of girl and he knew she would’ve hated to be dressed in what amounted to a blue sack. He untied the shoulder straps of her gold nightie and took the satin away. Angel lifted her slightly to get the other half of the garment out from under her.

Cordi’s belly still had a slight bulge from having a baby. He kind of loved her round and soft like that. His hands skated over her stomach again and again before sliding up to her breasts.

When she first came to them, Cordelia was still producing milk. Rubbing helped to clear the ducts so they wouldn’t become infected, and eased any discomfort she might have been feeling.

He’d kept massaging her that way even when her milk ran out, though, because in all honesty, he thought it felt good to her. Her nipples hardened and her heartbeat raced. Once she’d even made a soft sound in the back of her throat. She must have been so lonely, stuck in her head that a little bit of pleasure would mean a lot. Sometimes he thought about giving her an orgasm while she lay sleeping, but to actually do it would be crossing a line. He didn’t want to take advantage of her, even though he sensed sometimes it was something she wanted.

When he finished the front, he gently turned her over. It was difficult with all the wires and tubes, but he’d done it so many times he’d become quite adept. He worked lotion on her back. Her olive skin had grown pale from being inside for so long.

“Your nurse said we might be able to take you outside into the sun. Well, she will. Obviously. When you’re up I promise I’ll take you into my solarium. The glass is safe for me. I think you’d like the view. You were always a sucker for that kind of thing.”

He kissed the top of her head. To his right against the wall was a white dresser stacked with her special clothes. He went over to it and perused the nightgowns, finally settling on the green one with the ruffled trim. She looked lovely in green. As he dressed her, he noticed she seemed to be getting lighter. He would have to talk to the nurse about that.

When he’d finished Cordi’s nightly abulations, Angel sat by her bed and read aloud to her for awhile, just like he did with Connor. He was fairly certain she’d prefer Connor’s Beatrix Potter stories to Sartre, but she never complained either way.  
“It's the well-behaved children ... that make the most formidable revolutionaries. They don't say a word, they don't hide under the table, they eat only one piece of chocolate at a time. But later on they make society pay dearly.”


	23. Chapter 23

Wesley had been feeling genuinely clear-headed and more himself for the past few days. Whatever was in the pills he still pretended to swallow each morning had taken a very long time to dispel. He wasn’t even certain if the effects were entirely gone as his dream woman still visited every night. Something told him he shouldn’t fight his perceptions of her any longer. Even if he was giving into his madness, acquiescence to the dreams made Wesley feel more sane.

Once he’d made the leap to believing she could be real, he went about trying to prove it. The first place to look was at his odd habits, like stocking his refrigerator with diet root beer when he found it to be least palatable swill he’d ever had the misfortune to drink. In one of his dreams they’d had a conversation about it; she told him the vile fizzy drink reminded her of being a child and drinking root beer floats. He told her he’d always seen the bottles at the discount Chinese grocer where he got most of his food during university, but never tasted it until he’d come to Sunnydale.

When he woke up from the dream he’d remembered more of his time in Sunnydale, specifically dancing with a young woman in a shimmering dress while colored lights sparkled around the gymnasium. He couldn’t recall her face, but the way she felt in his arms was painfully familiar. Perhaps they’d met that long ago and he’d known her since then. Although, he had the terrible feeling that particular girl had died when the school collapsed.

He’d followed up on the dream by seeking out the one person besides Angel who he’d known in Sunnydale. She was a blonde who worked in the steno pool who’d said hello to him a few times. He always remembered her face, but could never recall her name.

She tended to linger in the lunch room. Initially he’d avoided her because of the social embarrassment of forgetting her name. This time he made a point of bumping into her.

“I’m so sorry, please forgive my clumsiness,” he said, bending to pick up the pile of folders she’d been carrying before he upended them.  
“It’s okay, Wes.”  
That’s when he noticed her necklace; gold with a little charm that said Harmony. Several things clicked into place.  
“Harmony. Your necklace. Your name’s Harmony.”  
“Gee, you’ve only met me about fifty times since you hired me.”  
“I’m sorry, my memory is a bit...I am seeing a doctor about it.”  
“No kidding, you’re like, famous around here. Why do you think I bought this necklace? I thought it was the only way you’d remember to promote me.”  
“Could we go somewhere private to talk?”  
Her lower lip plumped out in a pout. “I’ve got to get back to work.”  
“I’ll smooth things over with your boss. Just come with me.”  
She deliberated a moment, then a coy smile tweaked her lips. “You’re lucky I’ve got a thing for guys with British accents.” She linked her arm with his and led him out to the hallway. After a few twists and turns, she opened the door to a small copy room.

“Nobody comes in here since that accountant killed a girl and started writing bloody notes on the wall about toner. So what did you want to talk about, bossy?” She went in and leaned against the tainted copier. He closed the door before having the courage to continue speaking.

“This is going to sound mad, but do you have a tattoo?”

She stifled a giggle. “I have two. Palimony was my first. He’s right here,” she turned around and flipped her shirt up. On the small of her back was a tattoo of a pink Alicorn on the same spot where his dream woman had her sun and moon. Harmony looked over her shoulder at him in a pose that reminded him of a fifties pin up girl.

“How old were you when you got that?”

“It was a big bonding thing with my bestie on our eighteenth birthdays.”

“In Sunnydale?”

“Wow, you remembered that, but you can’t remember my name. Weirdo.”

“Yes, well. What was she like, your ‘bestie?’ You must have been very close.”

“I don’t know. She was cool, had all the best clothes and I could tell her anything. But when she got older she had really lame taste in guys.”

“But what did she look like?”

She twirled around, her eyebrow arched and a wry smile on her mouth. “I see what you’re getting at. She had long dark hair and big boobs and some people said she was even hotter than me. They were wrong, but she was still pretty hot. Are you going to ask if we had pillow fights or made out for practice or something?”

“What, practice? Is that...do women do that?”  
“Guys like to think we do. Mostly we just painted each other’s toe nails and talked about boys. She made me laugh a lot.”

“What was her name?”

Harmony opened her mouth and then closed it again, her sky blue eyes clouded. “You know what? I can’t remember it. Like, it’s normal to lose touch after you graduate from high school and in my case, well, I died, but you always think you’ll see each other again. I wanted to call her after I got this job, kind of rub her face in it because I heard she wasn’t doing too well. But then I couldn’t remember her name. I think it started with a C or maybe an A. I’m not sure.”

“You honestly don’t remember.”  
“No, and this whole conversation is kind of giving me a headache. Why don’t we talk about my other tattoo.” She lifted up her skirt to show him a Pegasus on her inner thigh. It was bright blue, the same color as her panties.

“That’s very nice.”

“It looks just like my other horse, Sugar Baby. My boyfriend got it for my fifteenth birthday. He was hoping I’d put out, but I didn’t do that back then. Lucky for you, I’m all evil now and I don’t care about long term commitment.”

She darted across the room and landed against his chest, tackling him to the ground. Her mouth came down hard on his. Unlike Fred, she didn’t care that he didn’t kiss her back.

It dawned on Wesley that this was a very, very bad situation and he’d entirely caused it with his clumsy interrogation and frozen intuition. Even if he wanted to have sex with Harmony, the medication he’d been taking had left his ability to perform spotty. At least he hoped it was the medication. Not to mention the fact that he was not the type of man who became aroused by fear. He could only get off when he felt in control of a situation and with someone he trusted implicitly. This was none of those things. Harmony might be beautiful, but she was still a vampire, a creature he found inherently repulsive.

After some fumbling on the floor, she shoved her cold hand down his pants. What she found there caused a look of disappointment to spread across her face.

“Well that’s never happened before.” She got off of him and sat on the floor. “Am I not pretty enough or something?”

Wesley pushed himself up on his elbows. “No, you’re exquisite. It’s nothing to do with that…”

“Well, what is it then? Maya in accounting thinks you’re gay.”  
“Um?” He briefly considered telling her that it was true, just to end the uncomfortable situation, but then she’d question why he’d brought her there in the first place. It also occurred to him that Harmony was the biggest gossip in the entire company. Everyone would know about it; questions would be asked. Quickly, he came up with a lie.  
“I want you to bite me, Harmony. That’s my kink.” It was a very stupid lie, much worse than pretending to be confused about his sexuality.  
“Wow, I’ve heard of guys who were into that, but I never thought that about you. It really puts a lot of bad in your bad boy bank. Would I get in trouble, like if I get randomly tested?”  
“I can make sure you don’t.” He was sure that part was true--  
Before he could make further reassurances, she pounced on him. She ripped open his shirt.  
“Why did you have to do that?” he asked.  
“So it won’t show, dingbat. Also, if I do your neck, I’m just going to kill you. I won’t want to but it will happen.” She seemed to be speaking from experience. Harmony sliced open a thin line above his right nipple. His hand snapped to cover the gash.  
“Ow!”  
“Sorry.” She shrugged. “I thought maybe if I didn’t warn you, it would hurt less.” She lowered her head and began sucking at the wound she made. It hurt a lot more than he thought it would, but was still an improvement over nipple clamps. When she was finished, Harmony wore a drunken grin. She clambered to her feet, leaving him there on the floor. He watched her take a moist towelette out of her purse. She used it to clean the blood off her face.  
“Was that good for you, because it was awesome for me.”  
“Yes, thank you Harmony.”  
“Maybe we can do this again when your platelet count is up.” She adjusted her clothes. “Do I look okay?”  
“You’re a picture.”  
“Bye.” She gave him a little wave, then stepped over his body and out of the room.  
He laid there for a while, trying to make sense of things. His dream woman went to high school with Harmony in Sunnydale, which is probably where he’d met her in the first place. Wesley couldn’t contact Rupert or Buffy about this. Neither one would take his calls since he’d made the move to Wolfram and Hart. Harmony mentioned a headache when he was trying to get information about her friend. He’d had a similar feeling when he concentrated on his dream girl’s face, but without the pills it became less intense and easier to ignore.

He wasn’t certain what the next step should be, but he did know one thing. She was real.


	24. Chapter 24

The first thing Cordelia noticed was pain. Her legs were crampy and her arms felt rusted at the joints.

“Can you open your eyes for me, Ms. Chase.”

Cordelia complied. She found herself looking at a small woman with long, gray hair, pointed ears and violet eyes. Her face reminded Cordi of a Siberian Husky, but in person form. Beyond her was an eerily familiar white room; the room she’d seen in her vision warning her that Angel would hurt her. She’d learned so much since then. Goose bumps rose on her skin.  
The dog lady smiled at her and angled her head just like a puppy looking for a treat.  
“What is the last thing you remember, Cordelia?”  
“I don’t remember saying you could call me by my first name,” Cordelia’s own voice sounded foreign to her; all gravely like Kathleen Turner after a night of smoking, drinking and gargling with acid.  
The dog lady laughed politely, her collection of beaded necklaces clanking on her chest. They looked like rose quartz, garnet and amber. Wes had told her once about the mystical properties of that collection of stones; they worked as a conduit for magical energy, amplifying it. Sorceresses wore them together. You could tell by the carvings on the beads which type of magic they practiced. Even though the individual before her wore all white, Cordi suspected that was a cover for some funky black magic.

“They warned me you were feisty. Now tell me, what is the last thing you remember?”

She didn’t want to tell the woman anything else, what she’d seen from the spirit world about Amelia growing up to be Greta, the way her gang had landed at Wolfram & Hart or how Angel had been treating her like a creepy living doll. When her spirit went all Patrick Swayze, she was able to see everything but had been unable to have any impact. She needed to be with Wesley again because he was coming apart at the seams. Honestly, the thought of Angel knowing she was awake terrified her most of all. Not so much for what he’d do to her, but what he’d do to Wesley.

“I want to see my husband, Wesley Wyndam Pryce.”  
“So you know your husband?”  
Cordi cocked her head, pleased she was still able to do that. “Duh?”  
“Well that means we’ve done our job a little too well.”

Before she had a chance to move or scream, the Siberian Husky woman touched Cordelia’s forehead. Black smoke filled the woman’s violet eyes. Then the smoke devoured Cordelia’s consciousness.


	25. Chapter 25

The daily meetings had been getting kind of depressing. Angel was thinking of pushing them out to weekly meetings so that he wouldn’t take all that negative energy back to Connor and Cordelia.

As per usual, the only one really speaking was Gunn. Fred shifted uncomfortably in her seat, not wanting to look at her ex or Wesley. Wesley was oblivious, sometimes staring at nothing in the air; conversing with the fairies.

“As C.E.O. and president of Wolfram & Hart, you just bankrupted a company that dumps raw demon waste into Santa Monica bay, banished a clan of pyro warlocks into a hell dimension, and started a foster care program for kids whose parents have been killed by vampires.  
Not bad for a day's pay.” Gunn tapped the stack of papers in his hand and grinned like the milkmaid’s cat.

“What about you, Fred? What’s going on with R&D?”

“Um, Wesley and I have been working on spell casting robots.”

Angel closed his notebook and gave Fred his sternest glare.

“You’re still working on that? It’s been weeks Fred,” Angel said.

“That’s more my fault than hers,” Wesley piped up. Everyone started back in their chairs. It was the first time Wesley had spoken in a meeting. “I’ve not been able to perfect the grenade’s core enchantment. Fred’s mechanism is flawless. She’s been trying to help me.”

“Well, Fred, move onto the next project. Wes can continue trying to get the enchantment down. You’re too important to get bogged down in details. We need to think bigger if we’re going to do good here.”

She looked down at her lap. “That’s the thing, Angel. I’m wondering if I really am doing good here. I got a call from a friend of mine back home about a job, and I think I’m going to take it.”

“Fred?” Charles sounded hurt.

Wesley didn’t say anything. Maybe he knew it was coming, or maybe he just didn’t care. His expression hadn’t changed at all. He kept staring at the light fixture above the conference table. Angel felt a buzz on his hip and checked his phone. It was a text from one of Cordi’s day nurses: Big changes. Come upstairs.

“Guys, I hate to cut this short, but I have to go.” Angel stood up, shoving the phone back in his pocket as he did.

Fred rose as well. “Seriously? Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

Angel rushed by her, “Charles can help you with the paper work. We’ll talk later.”

**  
As Angel left the room, Charles turned to Fred. “You can’t leave.”

“Charles, I still care about you, too, but this situation is getting to be unbearable for me.”

He ran his hand over his head. “That’s not what I meant. You signed a contract with a perpetuity clause, which means you can’t leave Wolfram and Hart.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“She didn’t.” Wesley said. He knew it was a risk, revealing a bit of cunning, but he had to aid Fred any way he could.

“Excuse me?” Charles seemed genuinely shocked. Wesley knew he hadn’t spoken this much at work in months.

“Her contract was signed in plain ink, not blood, which means the perpetuity clause is non-binding.” Wesley had seen all their contracts when he went wandering about in the file room. While Fred and Gunn had thick packets of information gathered on them, Wesley only had his contract. It was signed in ink with a crooked x.

He was considered such a doddering non-entity by the staff of Wolfram and Hart that they let him into their inner sanctum without so much as an I.D. card. It helped that he pretended to get lost in there for a full day and had curled up and gone to sleep on top of a pile of boxes. Gwen, the girl who called herself Files and Records, had been forced to help him find his way out.

“That’s true. How did you know that?” Charles asked.

“Oh, it was in the handbook, wasn’t it? The one we were given at the beginning of our employment.”

Fred shook her head. “Maybe I should start reading that stuff.”

“Don’t feel bad. If it hadn’t been downloaded into my noggin, I wouldn’t have bothered with it either.”

Wesley made a show of picking up his chair and turning it away from them. He sat with his back to his friends and pretended to address someone who wasn’t there. “See, this is why I was head boy, father. It had nothing to do with your standing at the university.”

“And there it is. The Wes we know and love,” Charlie said.

Fred touched his shoulder; at least he hoped it was Fred. He’d been exaggerating his quirks for the benefit of those around him, but that didn’t mean he was in any way whole.

“Wes, how did you know I signed in ink?” she asked.

“Because you’re not an idiot.” He patted her hand. “Now if you’ll excuse me, father and I have a lot of catching up to do.” He turned his head sharply as though his father had just spoken, “Replaced by robots, you say? That’s too far afield even for me.”

Gunn took Fred’s hand and they walked out of the conference room together, “I’ll miss you like crazy, Fred, but I understand why you’ve got to do this. I’ll help you with the exit interview so the demon horde doesn’t come after you looking for a severance package.”

“Wait, shouldn’t I be getting a severance package, not the other way around?”

“Normally, but you know how it is. We manufacture evil here.” Gunn closed the door, leaving Wesley alone. He kept pretending to converse with his father. It was extremely easy, given how long he’d actually heard his father’s voice in his head.

Wesley’s ultimate goal was to look at Angel’s notebook. He’d begun to suspect Angel knew more than he was saying, or was being used by someone who did. After all, when he’d searched their files, Angel’s employment contract was signed in deep, red blood.

Wesley kept talking aloud to his father as he walked around the conference table picking up papers, pens and water bottles. He had his arms full before he got to the notebook, which he stuck under his chin.

“They’re not paying me to be idle, father, the least I can do is pick up.” He carried the whole bundle out into the hallway. No one seemed to notice him as he kept collecting odds and ends on his way to his office. When he got there, he dumped the pile in a corner. Even though he was itching with curiosity to read the notebook, he decided it would be safer to ignore it. He took out a clean sheaf of paper and wrote in his most elaborate penmanship: To be sorted at a later date. Then he dropped the page face up on the pile.


	26. Chapter 26

The woman who greeted Angel in his Penthouse wore a white shaman’s gown and conduit necklaces. She smiled at him, but her unsettling purple eyes detracted from any comfort that was supposed to provide.

“Cordelia is awake, and she has asked for you. I must warn you, though, there’s much she doesn’t remember.”

“How much?”

“She doesn’t recall her marriage to Mr. Wyndam Pryce or giving birth to her daughter. Frankly, given the peculiar nature of her current situation, I think it’s important you don’t bring these things up. Let her lead a bit at first. Do you understand?”

“What about the pictures on the wall?”

“We removed them, to be returned at a later time.”

Angel felt light-headed. He’d been dreading telling Cordelia what he’d done to save her life. She would not take it well, especially if he had to explain that they couldn’t give Wesley back his memory until her recovery was well under way. Wes was still fragile psychologically and returning his memories could crush him.

Knowing that he had more time made him feel a sense of relief. Still, he had no idea who he was going to see when he walked through that door.

“I won’t mention anything. Can I see her?”

“Go ahead.”

He went into Cordi’s suite. Her nurses Clementine and Bette were on. He always liked those two. They smiled and filed out as soon as he walked in. Cordelia sat up in bed, her hair combed but no make up. They’d changed her into her white nightgown with the lace trim. Sunlight filtered into the room, making the fabric glow. The sheets were piled cloud-like around her.  
She looked like heaven.  
“Cordi--”  
“Angel!” She tried to reach her arms out to him, but they were shaking too much with the effort and they collapsed uselessly at her sides. He ran over to her and wrapped his arms around her. At the contact, she began to cry. “What is happening to me? They told me I was in an accident, but that’s all.”  
“It’s okay. You’re getting better every day.”  
She turned her face up to his, her wet eyes shining. “Where are we? How are you not burning up in the sunshine?”  
“What’s the last thing you remember?”  
“Um, Groo and I broke up for...reasons. I was on my way to see you and then it goes black.” She moved away from him and showed him her hand. “How did I get these rings? Did you give me these rings?”  
“No, I didn’t. Do you trust me, Cordi?”  
“You know I do. But I’m kinda wondering why you won’t tell me where we are.”  
Angel took a deep breath.  
“Okay, before I tell you where we are, let me put it in context.”  
“Context would be awesome right now, seeing as I have none.”  
“You were hurt in an attack, creatures busted into your apartment. There were a lot of injuries but the worst were to your brain. Normal measures would not have worked, so you’re being healed with a combination of traditional medicine and magic.”  
“And you’re totally getting to the part where you tell me where we are.”  
“Wolfram and Hart.”  
“If I could give you a shove right now, I would. What the hell were you thinking making a deal with these people?”  
Slowly, he released her and slid off the bed.  
“I had to save your life.”  
“Can I say thanks for that, but maybe no thanks. I mean, I led a good life Angel, mostly. Whatever was going to happen, it’s not worth losing yourself to these people.”  
“Are you telling me you’re sorry to be alive, because I don’t accept that.”  
“No. I’m just worried about you. I slip off to slumber land and when I wake up we’re in the devil’s...haircut? Is that an expression or is it just my brain damage talking?” She collapsed onto the pillows. Angel rushed to her side, not sure if he should touch her again. “Oh god, Angel. What about Fred and Charles? Are they just out there trying to fight the good fight without you?”  
“Actually, Charles is on board here and I guess Fred is moving back to Texas.” It suddenly struck Angel that one of the people he trusted and cared about the most in the world had given in her resignation that day. He’d ignored her. When he was finished talking to Cordi, he had to make that right somehow.  
“What about Wes?” She asked. If his heart had been beating, it would have stopped. She misinterpreted the panic on his face. “I know you hate him because of Connor, but he did what he did out of a misguided urge to protect you. Magic is his sweet spot. He might be able to help.”  
“Wes is...Wes is not really in his right mind these days. And things with Connor are very different than you remember. I got him back before he ever went through that portal with Holtz.”  
“How? Did Wolfram and Hart alter time, too?”  
“No, you did. You saved Connor. You went back in time and wiped out what Wesley did. How could I let you wither away in a hospital after you did something like that for me?”  
“I can travel through time?”  
“Your healing powers are pretty amazing.”  
“I wish I could use them to heal myself. Can I see the baby?”  
“Soon. You need to be a lot stronger first.”  
“Yeah, I guess I can’t hug him if I can’t lift my arms for more than two seconds.” She looked down, as though trying to screw up the courage to say something difficult. “Actually, this whole conversation is kind of wearing me out. Could you do something for me, Angel?”  
“Anything.”  
“Would you hold me?” she asked, quietly.  
Angel eased into the bed with her, careful of all the modern medical tubing and wires she was draped in. She put her head on his chest. “I know you’re not so good with technology, but could you make the bed go flat with the button-thingy.”  
“I-yeah. Yeah, I’m better with that stuff now.”  
He pressed the button and they sank together.  
“Magic carpet ride,” she said. He could feel her smile bumping against him.  
“I keep thinking about the baby. I miss him so much. It feels almost like we had a little family for awhile,” she said as she drifted back to sleep.


	27. Chapter 27

Wesley took the notebook off of his “To be sorted pile.” He’d been arranging things in the office for about an hour and was certain if anyone happened to be watching him, they would be off the scent by now.

He sat down at his desk and flipped to the first page. There were a few sentences about Balrogs, scattered amid intricate drawings of Celtic knots and Claddaghs. It reminded Wesley of when he was a graduate student and would collect the homework of his less than enthusiastic undergrads. If he had any luck, there would be a scrawled name in the margins.

Wesley turned the pages until he saw a face that made him stop. He got that knowing feeling you get when you know something. Her face, the one that he’d been dreaming about for months, but couldn’t ever quite see. In that moment he even remembered her name. Cordelia Chase, darling Cordelia, his wife and yet, when he looked away, everything scattered again. No name, no certainty, no face. When he looked down again, it was as though he’d discovered her afresh.

He turned the page and saw a sketch of his Cordelia naked on her back, seemingly asleep. The details were too right to be the product of imagination. Wesley knew her body better than his own and so did the artist who’d undertaken her portrait. Angel must have stared at her while she was sleeping and drawn her like that.

The thought of it made him so angry he stood up and took his pistol out of the top drawer in his desk. He had special bullets marked with crosses and filled with holy water designed to explode on impact. He was going to find Angel and kill him.

A second later Fred came into his office. She stopped, like someone trying not to spook a wild animal.

“Why are you holding a gun, Wesley?” She asked, her voice careful.

He looked at the weapon in his hand. “I honestly don’t know. Cleaning it, perhaps?”

She crept closer to him. “Why don’t you give it to me?”

“Certainly.” He took the bullet cartridge out and made sure the safety was on before he handed it to her. She took it away from him.

“Wes, I’m not going to shoot you. You didn’t have to pull the whole thing apart.”

“Sorry. Habit.”

As she moved away from him, she glanced down at his desk. “Oh my gosh. Naked lady?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your notebook.” Her face went from panicked and slightly scandalized to completely flat. “Nothing. I can’t remember.”

“You said naked lady.” Wesley picked up the notebook and looked at the picture. Suddenly, he remembered why he wanted the gun. But when he closed it again, the anger evaporated.

“What? Why would I say that. What were we talking about?”

“I think this notebook is enchanted. Fred, please write me note that says forgetful enchantment, must decode.”

“Not that I mind,” she said as she began to write the note on one of the myriad papers he had strewn on his desk, “But why can’t you do it yourself?”

“I have a feeling if I try I’m going to get a blinding headache and forget myself mid-task.”

Fred stopped writing and put her hand to her head. “What am I doing here?”

“It’s okay, let me take that.” Wesley wrapped the page she’d written on around the notebook in his hand. He fought through the pressure in his head and mild nausea to grab a pile of string he happened to have on his desk, along with many other odds and bobbins, to tie it up. He stuck the precious item in his briefcase and promptly forgot about it.

They looked at one another blinking. Wesley wondered how she’d gotten there; he didn’t remember her coming in. Strangely, she seemed to be experiencing the same sensation. Since he’d become practiced at recovering from these situations, he spoke first.

“What brings you to my office?”

“I don’t know...Oh!” She said excitedly, then immediately deflated. “Oh. I wanted to say goodbye.”

“It’s all settled then?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna be shot of this place completely. Charlie lawyered me out of everything even remotely hinky. I’m free.”

“I’m very glad to hear that, but I’ll miss you a lot.”

She landed against his chest, knocking the wind out of him with the force of her hug. He smiled and let his arms settle around her for a cuddle.

“You have to promise me you’ll eat, and you’ll keep seeing the doctor.”

“I promise.”

“Good, because you’re so much better than you were before, but you can’t do it all alone. I know what it’s like to get lost. It’s hard to get back by yourself.”

“I’ll be alright. You need to save your corner of the world now.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you could come with me? We could help each other.”

He gazed down at her; she smiled hopefully up at him. It pained him to disappoint her, but there was another woman he suspected needed him much more. “Fred. I can’t.”

“Why not? I know you don’t feel, like feelings towards me, but I still care about you.”

“I love you, Fred. You’re every good thing in this world.”

“But you’re not in love with me, and you’re afraid you’ll just drag me down, you’ve got to fight your own battles, blah, blah blah other macho noble crap? Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

“No, nothing like that. I need to be here for Angel.” Wesley didn’t add that he had a nagging feeling he might be forced to kill Angel at some point in the near future.

“He’s not the Angel we knew. I think this power, this place, are really getting to him.”

“All the more reason for me to stay.” He embraced her tighter.

“I want you to get well and I don’t think you’re going to do that here.”  
“I am getting better, though. You’ve said it yourself.”  
She sighed. “If you need me, you promise to call?”  
“You have my word.”  
She withdrew from him. “Charles and I are going out for drinks with a few of the less evil people from R&D. Would you want to come?”  
“I shouldn’t. I still get confused in larger groups of people.”  
“That’s right. I’m sorry. Well I guess we’ll say goodbye. Goodbye.”  
“Good bye.”  
She hesitated a moment and he wondered if she’d stay, but then she turned around and darted out the door.  
Wesley sat down. He felt as though all the progress he’d made in regaining his psychological footing had been lost, and like trying to stay on a steep path, he’d made a misstep and was sliding further from sanity. There was something important, something precious and he’d simply forgotten it again.


	28. Chapter 28

Cordelia’s physical therapy session was not going to plan, unless the nurse had planned to reduce her to tears. They had transferred her to a mat on the floor, because she still wasn’t strong enough to stand.

Her nurse, Clementine, was a sturdy woman in her early twenties with bright orange hair that reminded Cordi of Leloo from the ‘Fifth Element.’ Clementine stood over Cordi, hands on her hips, with the attitude of a drill sergeant while her other nurse, Bette, worked the funky magical resistance machine that was supposed to use mystical power and physics to make her walk again. Bette was the most Swedish-looking person Cordi had ever seen, with her fair skin, Nordic blue eyes and white blonde hair. Oddly enough, though, Bette wasn’t even from this dimension originally and had no idea where Sweden was.

“Do you want to spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair?” Clementine asked.  
Cordelia’s whole body dripped with sweat and her vision was swimmy. Clementine’s face kept turning into a red blur.  
“No.”  
“Then push back.”  
“I want to, but my legs aren’t listening.”  
Bette wiped Cordelia’s forehead with a soft cloth. “Just one more and we can give you a bath. Won’t that be pleasant?”  
Cordi took a deep breath. Using everything she had, she tried to press the machine down with her feet. It hurt worse than being in labor, although she wasn’t sure how she’d know that seeing as she’d never had a baby. The machine made a little clicking noise, indicating that she’d shoved the lever part back into place.

“And you’re done,” Bette said.

Cordelia collapsed on the floor. The two women gathered her up, one at her head, the other at her feet. They transferred her to a waiting gurney and wheeled her into the bathroom. They stripped off her nightgown--that was another indignity, trying to do those exercises in a nightgown. Even though they saw her naked a million times a day, she was still embarrassed. She’d mentioned it before, but they’d just accused her of trying to get out of her exercises.

When Bette said they would give her a bath, it wasn’t a real bath. It was more like a shower lying down. They used the detachable shower head to spritz her.

“Should we wash her hair?” Bette asked.  
“He said we shouldn’t wash it too much. Something about the chemicals irritating his nose,” Clementine said as she patted Cordi dry. The way she was talking made Cordi feel like an expensive car or something.  
“Please wash my hair.”  
They looked at her as though they’d forgotten she could talk. They washed her hair, then helped her to the toilet. If there was any lingering remnant of Queen C, needing two people to hold her on the can had banished her forever. Humbling didn’t quite cover that experience.

They dressed her in another frilly nightgown, something that crossed Victoria’s Secret and the medical bulk supply store in an aesthetically unsettling way, and then set her in bed. A few seconds later, she passed out.

The sky was dark when Cordi woke up, her view of Los Angeles twinkling behind the floor to ceiling windows. She always appreciated a good view. She turned her head and saw another thing of beauty. Angel had fallen asleep in the chair by her bed. He was wearing silk pajama bottoms and nothing else. With his mussed hair he looked so good as to be practically edible. She inexplicably felt lonely at the thought, when there was no reason to be. He was right there.

Angel stirred, upsetting the book he’d placed on his knee. When it hit the floor, he woke up completely.

“Cordi, hey. How are you?”  
“Sore. Like I’ve been hit with an anvil and dropped off a cliff. So I feel like Wile E. Coyote, basically.”  
“I don’t get that reference.”  
“Yeah, you didn’t exactly watch Saturday morning cartoons growing up.”  
“No, but I was in the audience during one of the first showings of ‘The Great Train Robbery.’ Not the one with Donald Sutherland, the original.”  
“Did the people really dodge out of the way of the train on screen?”  
“It’s been exaggerated over time. I didn’t dodge so much as, you know, manfully scream.”  
She giggled a little and it hurt, making her wince.  
“Would you want a massage? Clementine said she worked you pretty hard. It might make you feel better.”  
“If you want to. Most guys conk out after two shoulder squeezes, except this one man I dated, but he only wanted to rub my feet. It was a whole creepy thing.”  
“I promise I won’t be creepy.”  
He stood up and walked over to the shelf where the nurses kept all her unguents and medicinal ointments. After a moment’s deliberation he picked a bottle and returned to her bedside. He started with her left hand, easing her rings off first.  
“Do you have to do that?”  
“I’m very thorough.”  
“So you have some experience?”  
“Just a bit.”  
He rubbed her palm, each fingertip, up and down her arm. It felt amazing and she moaned when he got to her sore biceps. The smug look on his face made her feel shaky inside. “I can’t believe something that’s making me feel this good isn’t damaging my liver.”  
He gave her a reproachful look. “Relax. I’ll take care of you.”

She didn’t know how to take that, so she stayed silent while he moved to her other arm. When he finished, she didn’t really feel like talking. He spread her legs apart and began massaging the left one. Her nightie rode up to her hips. 

His fingers swooped closer and closer to the edge of her panties. She was getting wet. He could probably smell that; it would be the most disgusting thing in the world if he told her about it, though. Like if she said she wasn’t sure and he started to argue that he knew she wanted him by the way her heart was racing and the smell of her smell and all of that.

He wouldn’t do that, though. It was Angel. If she told him to stop, he would. He and Buffy dated for a year without getting physical, so he wouldn’t have a problem. She didn’t want to think of him with Buffy, but then she was and it wouldn’t stop. He’d never love Cordi as much. That was good, though, right? Without Buffy there could be no perfect happiness and without perfect happiness that soul was locked right in place.  
He began working her other leg. She was so wet now he could probably see it soaking through her panties. If he saw it, he made no mention. She thought he was finished, when he knelt on the bed in between her legs. He slid his hands under her nightie and rubbed her hips.

“Does that feel good?”  
She nodded yes. From where she was lying, she could see the outline of his erection through the silk pajama bottoms. Part of her couldn’t believe he’d even want her the way she was right then. She had never been less confident in the way she looked; most of the time she didn’t even feel like a woman. Her body was just this thing that didn’t work right any more. Most of the people she dealt with saw her as another task in an already busy day. She was grateful he could see her as something like her former self. At the same time, she was afraid. What he was doing felt good and she loved him, but she’d never felt more out of control or more helpless.

He began stroking her breasts. The nipples hardened under his fingers and she couldn’t help crying out. He was way too rough. Every boy she’d ever dated was overzealous when it came to her tits. She didn’t even bother to tell him to stop. This was the part they were all waiting for, she didn’t want to spoil it for him.

He unlaced the sides of her nightie and whipped it off of her. His mouth found her nipples. She let him play, tonguing and sucking for what felt like an eternity. He moved to her neck, and her heart clenched. So did her legs. All the insecurity she’d been trying to suppress bobbed to the surface and she was genuinely frightened he might bite her. She yanked his hair with all her strength.  
“Stop.”  
“Huh?” He looked at her, open-mouthed and dazed.  
“Don’t kiss my neck. Nothing with my neck.”  
“What, is it my gypsy curse?”  
Cordi couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. The gypsy curse reminded her of what Wes had said when they were mocking Angel and Buffy’s relationship: “My gypsy curse sometimes prevents me from seeing the truth.” Then Wes had groaned about forgetting to brood. She really, really missed Wes. Nobody else was as willing to be that silly with her, and she could use a goofball in crime in this place.  
“Jesus, Cordi. That was a mood killer.”  
“I’m sorry,” she said, still chuckling. “Maybe this was too soon.”  
He got up off of the bed.  
“Wait, Angel, where are you going?”  
“I need to take a cold shower. Behead a Grox’Lar Beast.”  
“Oh, yeah, beheading the old Grox’Lar Beast. You don’t have to leave to do that, it might be sexy if you let me watch.”  
“What? The beast was captured near the Children’s Hospital. We’ve got it imprisoned in the basement. I’m not going to bring it up here.”  
“I didn’t mean...I thought that was a euphemism.”  
“Oh. Ahh. I wouldn’t really be comfortable doing that in front of you, Cordi. Just kind of old-fashioned that way.”  
“It’s okay. Go shower. Kill monsters.”  
He looked embarrassed as he ducked out of her room. She tried to reach her nightie, but it was too far away, so she hid under her sheets. For some reason her post-sexual-failure nakedness felt more humiliating than when her nurses saw her regular nudity. Cordi was certain she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep for hours, but she was out in a matter of minutes.

**  
Cordelia sat at her desk at the Hyperion. Wesley sat across from her, intently reading the pages of some dusty old book. His hair was longer and starting to curl, like it had been right around the time they first moved to the hotel. He glanced up at her, then stared over his glasses.  
“Cordelia, you look terrible.”  
“Well that haircut makes you look like Rod Flanders.”  
He shut the book and tsked at her. “All I meant was you’re still feeling sick, it’s plain on your face. Why don’t you have a lie down in the guest room?” They’d set up one of the hotel rooms as a safe place for clients in trouble to stay. Wesley always referred to it as the guest room.  
“No. I’m helping you research...whatever we’re researching.”  
He stood up and walked over to her. Without any effort at all, he scooped her into his arms. She didn’t fight it, she just rested her head on his shoulder.  
“I didn’t think you could lift me.”  
“I’m much stronger than you think.” He carried her up the steps easily. They went into the hotel room. Purple orchids filled the small space, save for a small, empty path leading to the bed, which was strewn with flower petals.  
“This is rather much, isn’t it?” Wesley kicked the door shut.  
“Well, you know Lorne.”  
He set her down on the sweetly-scented bed. “Everything will be okay. Didn’t you tell me that once?”  
“I don’t remember.”  
“Things are a bit fuzzy for me, too. But I will find you. I can’t go on like this, with nothing left.”

Cordelia woke with a start. She was lying in her hospital bed, her nurse Clementine taking vital signs. She expected to see Wesley in the chair by the bed, until she realized she’d been dreaming. Even though it had only happened in her head, the scent of flowers lingered with Cordelia for the rest of the day.


	29. Chapter 29

Cordi looked at her feet. Someone had painted her toenails a bright shade of pink while she was sleeping. They’d waxed her legs smooth, but not her bikini area. Why do one and not the other? It was literally the least of her worries, so she’d started fixating on it in a weird way. Weird for her--Fred usually dealt with problems through the gateway of an odd, seemingly inconsequential detail. Cordi always thought of herself as the type of girl who just confronted things head on, but maybe this was too much to deal with all at once. Maybe it was best to take it one toenail at a time.

Her other friends each had their own approaches to problem-solving. Angel obsessed and then used a combination of cleverness and brute force. Charles made a joke, deflected concern and tried to take care of everything by himself. Wes would find out every single thing about the issue before acting. He’d repress until someone made him talk. That someone was usually her.

Sex doesn’t solve everything.

Had she said that to Wesley of all people? When had they ever talked about sex? He’d go on and on about Fred but that was always respectful and non-creepy. In fact he was so closed-mouthed about it that she kind of forgot he could have sex. Their first kiss was the worst. He drooled down her chin and she almost choked him because she couldn’t figure out where to put her hands. The second time was better; like a stage kiss in acting class with someone who knew what they were doing. Not swoony and romantic but it left her feeling warm and happy for a little while. Maybe because the anticipation hadn’t been built up around it like before, there was nothing to make him over think things. Just a kiss. He always thought too much when it came to stuff like that. You had to strike when the iron was hot, not after the iron had already landed on your foot and given you second degree burns. Wes never got that. The only way he’d ever find someone was to stumble into it by accident when he wasn’t looking. When it was just supposed to be a casual thing.

It was funny to think about how much she wanted him in high school. She’d been convinced they were going to get married. Mrs. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. What if she’d hyphenated? Cordelia Christina Chase-Wyndam-Pryce.

That would have been...nuts. Aside from the unimpeachable jaw line and the fact that he was taller than her, he wasn’t her physical type at all. Wes was way too slim. She wondered how he could even swing an axe with his narrow shoulders, let alone be so lethal with it.

Sometimes she’d stare at his fingers as they slowly turned the pages of his book. The way he read could make her impatient. He didn’t have to touch the edge of every page with such care, as though it would crumble without his reverence. He acted like he was the only one who recognized their worth.

She started to cry and wasn’t sure what was making her do that. Her nurse, Jade, the helpful, younger one who actually seemed to be kind of happy to do her job, told her people with brain injuries have trouble laughing and crying for no discernible reason.

Mia was very business-like. Jade, aptly named because of her green skin, had a good deal more empathy. She noticed Cordi’s tears.

“It’s okay Ms. Chase, every first step is scary.” Jade handed her a tissue.

“Thanks, but it’s not that. I don’t know what it is.”

“You need to concentrate, Ms. Chase, if you ever want to stop using that bed pan,” Mia said.

Cordi moved her feet slightly, then a little more. “Couldn’t they just magic my legs or something?”

“You could have them replaced entirely, but that has its own problems,” Mia reached out to Cordelia.

Jade waved her hand. “Don’t listen to her. Magic and medicine have done all they can. The rest is up to you.”

“Okay. I can do this.” Cordi cleared her mind and concentrated on her movements.

With Jade’s help, she managed to stand. She couldn’t believe she was standing on her own. The resistance exercises they’d been doing the past few weeks must have strengthened her legs. Cordi grinned at Jade, who returned her smile. Jade took one arm and Mia the other. Together they led her to parallel bars Angel had set up on the other side of her suite. Every step burned. They had her walk back and forth using the bars for support for what felt like hours. When she looked at the clock, it had only been fifteen minutes.

“Could we maybe take a break?” Cordi took another shuddering step.

“Fifteen more minutes, Ms. Chase.” Mia watched Cordi’s feet.  
“Sorry,” Jade added, “not even being the big boss’ girl can get you out of it.”

For some reason being referred to as Angel’s girl made her feel uncomfortable. She loved him, and she even called him her guy. She wondered if the nurses knew about her make-out sessions with Angel. They must; they were always around in case of emergency. They hadn’t tried to have penetrative sex again but they’d kissed and he’d gone down on her. She was still afraid to touch him back, but he seemed okay with that. Suddenly Cordelia wondered how they saw her, if they laughed at her behind her back.

“I’m not his girl.”  
“Sure, you just snuggle every night,” Jade said with a teasing smile.  
“Jade, try to be a little more professional,” Mia said, shooting the other woman a look that would have rivaled high school Cordi’s death glare.  
Jade was quiet for the rest of the session. By the time Cordi finished, her hands were so sweaty they slipped on the bars. Her whole body felt like it was on fire. The nurses flanked her when she let go of the bars so she wouldn’t fall down.  
“Instead of going back to bed, can I shower? There’s a chair in there, I could sit.”  
“One of us would still have to go in with you,” Mia said, shaking her short black hair out of her face as she spoke.  
“That’s fine. I’d appreciate the help. Jade, would you mind?”  
“Of course not, Ms. Chase.”  
Mia handed Cordi off to Jade at the bathroom door. Even though Jade had helped her use her bed pan and given her sponge baths and probably seen her in a million embarrassing positions, Cordi still turned her back to her when she sat down on the shower seat to undress. She tugged at the strings of her nightie.  
“Could I start wearing pants now that I’m up and about again?” Cordi slid the damp satin off. She had to take a moment to rest her head against the tiled wall before gathering up the energy to turn on the taps.  
“I don’t know. Maybe talk to Mr. Angel about it. He’s the one who picks your clothes.”  
Even though she was beyond bone tired, a trill of fear made her sit up straight.  
“No wonder you think I’m his girl.”  
“I didn’t mean anything by that,” Jade said, her words coming out a little too fast.  
Cordi turned on the shower. It felt good to let the water run over her, the heat soothing her sore muscles. She was able to lather up the soap and drag it across her skin, but when she tried to lift her hands above her head, they just fell at her sides.  
“Um, Jade. Could you wash my hair?”  
“Of course, no problem.”  
Jade was at her side in a moment. She squeezed shampoo in Cordi’s hair and started rubbing it in.  
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something for awhile. Are you Pylean?”  
Jade took the shower head off and used it to rinse the froth from Cordi’s hair.  
“Why yes. How did you know?”  
“A good friend of mine used to live there. Also, I was their princess for a little while.”  
“Oh my Gosh, that was you! I came over with Grooselogg when he went to find you. That was about two years ago give or take.”  
“What? That long?”  
“Let me think. Yeah, because in that time I met my husband and took the Wolfram and Hart crash nursing course.”

“Crash nursing course doesn’t instill me with confidence.”

Jade chuckled. “It’s not anything bad. You pay ten thousand dollars, get everything downloaded in an afternoon, and then they own you for the next fifteen years.”

Cordi’s eyes popped open. “Hold on, so you’re a slave?”

“No, more like an indentured servant. It’s rough, but it was pretty much my only option if I didn’t want to end up in the demon brothel. Wolfram and Hart is kind of the only game in town for those of us who can’t blend.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“I’ve been through worse.” Jade hung the shower head back up. “You’re all done.”  
“Thank you, in case I haven’t said it a million times today.”  
“Just doing my job, Ms. Chase.”  
Jade helped Cordi into her robe and together they walked back to the bed. By the time the nurses finished dressing her, she could barely keep her eyes open.

She woke up again to the sensation of someone rubbing her foot. She saw Angel massaging her sole.

“Hey?”  
“You’re up. Mia said you took your first steps today. That’s huge. How do you want to celebrate?” He grinned at her.  
“Could you stop that?”  
He set her foot down. “Too hard?”  
“No, I just. People have to touch me all day long, whether I want them to or not. If it’s optional I’d really like you to ask.”  
“What’s wrong?”  
“Aside from what I just told you, how long have I really been in this coma?”  
“Four months, Cordi.”  
“Then why did my nurse tell me she came her two years ago with Groo?”  
Angel readjusted in his chair.. “Probably because she did. You lost time after your accident. There’s about a year and a half that you don’t seem to remember.”  
“Why didn’t you tell me?”  
“Your doctor said if I told you all at once it might derail your recovery.”  
“Well, let’s celebrate me taking my first steps by you telling me something about my missing year and a half.”  
Angel stood up, and she thought he was leaving her alone. She was about to call him on it when she saw him go to the top drawer of her dresser. He took out a white photo album and carried it back to her.  
“You asked me about those rings when you first woke up,” Angel said as he settled in the creaky, leather chair. “I didn’t give them to you. Your husband did.”  
“Husband? No. I would have remembered a whole husband.”  
“Except you don’t. Cordi, you were in bad shape. More recent things, especially connected to what happened to you--”  
“How is my husband connected to what happened to me?” The word husband felt unwieldy in her head, like running across an unknown word in a familiar story. “Is he the one who did this to me?”  
“No, nothing like that.” Angel’s eyes seemed darker and his mouth became a line. She knew what that expression meant.  
“But you blame him, don’t you?”  
“No. I just keep thinking if it had been me, I might have been faster.”  
“Am I still married?”  
“For all intents and purposes.”  
“You didn’t think that was important to tell me before we made out?”  
“Cordi.” He looked away from her.  
“What?”  
“I love you. I, should have told you. But there are some mitigating circumstances.”  
“What does that mean?”  
“It means can we put a pin in it?”

“Fuck you, Angel. Just, seriously.” She crossed her arms and moved away from him.

He huffed silently.

“I don’t think he ever loved you, okay? Your whole relationship was fated to happen. The Powers that Be changed reality in order to set it in place. I saw how things were supposed to be. You were in love with me, Cordi. We would have been together.”

“How did you see it? No wait, don’t tell me. Someone from Wolfram and Hart showed you the thing you wanted. That’s what they do. They show you the thing you want and then make you give up your soul to get it.”

“Trust me, Cordi, if I’d given up my soul, you’d know it.”

“Oh, you’re threatening me now, too?”

“No...no.” He shook his head and leaned toward her.

She moved away even further, but found herself nearly out of bed.

“So who was the lucky guy? Jude Law? That cute boy from the juice bar?”  
“It was Wes.”  
“Wait, which Wes?”  
“The Wes. Our Wes. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.”  
Cordelia burst out laughing, but she found herself choking back sobs at the same time.  
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too when you told me,” Angel said with a smirk.  
“How?” It took her a second to get her breathing back under control. Angel stood up and poured her a glass of water from a glass pitcher on the other side of the room. He walked back and handed it to her. She gulped the liquid down. “How? We’ve always been friends, but he’s-- what’s that thing where you just sort of imagine a guy is all smooth down there like a Ken Doll even when he’s not?”  
“A eunuch”  
“I was thinking sexless. Eunuch seems kind of mean.”  
“You called me a eunuch once.”  
“I never said I wasn’t mean.”  
“Well, your reaction just adds to my getting screwed over by fate theory. Look at the wedding album. It might jog something loose.”  
He handed her the book. She opened it to the first page and saw Wesley standing beside her in his tuxedo. They were beneath some kind of ticky tacky bower decorated with tulle and white lights. She’d never seen him look so happy and the smile on her own face was brighter than a camera flash.  
“I like my dress,” she said softly.  
“You should. You picked it out.”  
“And I picked him out, too. Why did I do that?”  
“I don’t know, but it broke my heart.”  
She turned the page and saw a picture of the five of them together. Fred and Gunn had big smiles like hers and Wesley’s while Angel wore a scowl.  
“You look like your boss called you at home so he could fire you on Christmas.”  
“No, I look like the woman I’m in love with just married my best friend. Because that’s what happened.”  
“Why didn’t you tell me that when I started dating him?”  
“You kept it a secret until you had this surprise wedding. It was too late.”  
“That doesn’t sound like something I’d do, except wait,” she slapped the mattress. “It sounds exactly like what I did to Xander in high school.”  
“Because you were ashamed of him.”  
“Yeah. None of this makes any sense.” She closed the book, feeling like she’d been looking at stills from a play. “Why hasn’t he come to see me at all?”  
Angel looked scared for a second. “Do you want him to? Because I could get him up here.”  
“No. I mean, what would I say to him? Hi, I guess we’re married but I don’t remember. Also, why haven’t you bothered to contact me the entire time I’ve been sick? You shouldn’t have to get him up here. He should want to see me. What happened?”  
“He and I disagreed about the best treatment for you. He didn’t want me to go to Wolfram and Hart.”  
“So he abandoned me.”  
“No, Cordi. It wasn’t like that. He’s not the person you knew. Losing you hit him hard.”  
“Yeah, and it’s been a day at the spa for me, too.”  
“I’m sorry to have to tell you all this, Cordi. Do you want me to stay with you tonight?”  
“I just want to be alone for awhile.”  
He left the room, softly closing the door behind him. She looked through the album again. Everything looked surreal in those pictures. Her head was splitting by the time she let the book fall shut.


	30. Chapter 30

Charles had promised Fred he’d keep an eye on Wesley. It showed how much he still loved the girl that he’d kept up with it for so long, because Wes didn’t make it easy. For instance, that notebook.

Wes had been carrying it around for two months, randomly sticking post-it notes to it. Once Charles tried to take the thing from him, just to see, and Wesley had flipped him over. Dude was so mousy and meek, Charles had forgotten he could do that.

“I’m sorry,” Wesley said as he helped him up. “I think the key to my sanity is in this thing, if I can just figure out what’s going on.”

Yeah. Once Charles had laid off the notebook, things had gotten a little better with Wes. They’d go out for lunch a couple times a week. He’d even been helpful a few times, remembering arcane knowledge. What Wes said wasn’t all random stuff and crazy rambling.

Charles couldn’t say the same for this afternoon’s adventure. He’d followed Wes through one of the crummier parts of Los Angeles to a Winkie’s Restaurant. Wes stood before the hamburger statue order thing, but he wasn’t trying to get a chocolate shake or a double order of chili fries like any sane man would do. He had a packet of powder and was sprinkling it around.

“Mange sec Loa--”  
“Excuse me sir? Do you want to try a Winkie’s double down triple cheese savory cobbler with bacon and swiss chard?” The voice from the loudspeaker sounded panicky, not stoned like your average Winkie’s employee. Charles wondered if Wes had done this before. The truck behind Wes edged forward and beeped. The fellas in it were dressed in paint splattered overalls and there were tools stacked neatly in the back. Of the three of them, each looked like they could tear down a house with their bare hands, and none were very happy with Wes.  
“Go inside moron!” the driver shouted.  
Wes just ignored him. Charles knew he had to intervene, or else Wes was going to be a stain on the pavement. He walked out of the bushes and grabbed Wes’ wrist.  
“What the hell are you doing?”  
“My ritual to open the doors of truth.”  
“Wes, there is a line of cars behind you and you’re confusing the girl running drive through. She doesn’t make enough to put up with your nonsense.”  
The speaker crackled to life. “He’s right sir, I don’t.”  
“Let’s get out of here, Wes.”  
“You’re right, Charles. I should really be doing this at night.”  
“I was going for not at all, but since they close at ten, that’s maybe a start.”  
Charles led him away to the sidewalk. He was about to tell him that he could take the car the next time he needed to talk to a mystical hamburger, when a pain in his stomach brought Charles to his knees. Wesley was beside him in a second with his phone out.  
“What is it? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”  
“Hurts? I don’t know.” Charles coughed into his hand and felt something wet come up. To his horror, his hand was covered in blood. Wesley saw it too.  
“Good Lord. Have you any idea what’s causing it?”  
“None.”  
Wesley took off his jacket and balled it up. He eased Charles onto the ground, using the coat as a pillow. Charles watched as Wesley gave clear directions to the 911 operator about their location and his condition. Wes looked down at him.  
“You’re going to be alright, Charles. The paramedics will be here in less than five. Don’t worry.”  
Right before he lost consciousness, it occurred to Charles that Wesley seemed perfectly in control of himself, perfectly sane.


	31. Chapter 31

Angel had successfully avoided Wesley for about a month. Since he’d first tried to make love to Cordelia, looking at her befuddled husband had been torture. The problem of Wes was only getting more intense. He wasn’t getting any saner and Angel didn’t want him to know that Cordelia was awake.

He hated leaving her alone the night before with that wedding album. She’d been so angry at him for deceiving her, he wondered if she’d ever forgive him. Worse yet the photographs might help her to remember why she’d decided to marry Wesley in the first place. If that happened, if she asked for her husband, he’d have to provide. He’d have to give Wes his memories back and hope they wouldn’t despise him. The chances of that were slim to nil.

As though Angel’s thoughts had summoned him, Wesley ran into the office. Angel’s secretary trailed behind, her mouth open and useless. Poor Samantha was a witch, but she wasn’t really into dark magicks or the like. As a result, she had a lot of trouble being rude to people who wanted to push their way into his office. Angel had given her special instructions not to let Wesley in at all, but there he stood, the apology written on her face.

Wesley stopped and looked at Angel, making a tsking sound. “This is your special meeting?”  
“What do you want, Wes?”  
“Charles is dying. He’s been infected with a parasite that is cooking his organs. In a day’s time they will liquefy”  
“Cooking?” Angel felt his stomach drop.  
“Yes. Apparently, Charles helped clear a sarcophagus through customs, it was sent directly to him and that is where we have the point of infection. There is evidence the relic belonged to the old ones, ancient demons predating history.”  
“I’m familiar with the old ones.”  
“Good for you. We need to go to a place called the Deeper Well. I’ve found its location in the Cotswolds. What I need from you is access to Wolfram and Hart’s private jet.”  
“What good will that do?”  
“The Well is a prison for the dead. If something gets out, it can be drawn back from the source.”  
“Why is this the first time I’m hearing about any of this?”  
Wesley threw the pile of notes in his hand at Angel, the papers flaring out and scattering in a decisively anticlimactic way.  
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the past eight hours. Half the building has been working on this problem. Fred flew here and is already at his bedside. I’m assuming this is the first you’ve heard of his condition because it’s the first time anyone forced you to listen.”  
“Samantha, call downstairs, have them prep the jet.”  
“Thank you, it was quite literally the least you could do,” Wesley turned on his heel and walked out.  
Angel stood. He had to catch up with him and try to fix things with Charles.  
“Wes, wait-”  
Wesley turned around. “Yes.”  
“I’ll go to this Deeper Well.”  
“That’s not necessary.”  
“It is.” Angel caught up with Wesley. “Let’s go save Charlie.”

**  
Wesley bent over his book while Fred tried frantically to use the sarcophagus to save Charles’ life. They’d found next to nothing, and time was winding down. He couldn’t concentrate on translating ancient Sumerian when he knew it would likely be for nothing. Fred seemed to know it, too. Finally, Wesley set his book down and walked over to her.

“Go to him.”  
“What?” She nearly dropped her pipette.  
“He’s dying, in pain. Go to him and tell him how much you love him. This is not going to save him now and you know it.”  
“You know what Angel said, we’re all Charles has now. If we fail…” She broke down into tears. Wesley put his arms around her and she sobbed into his shoulder.  
“Are you close to any sort of breakthrough?”  
“That’s not how breakthroughs work. I can’t let him down again, not after the way I left. We work the problem, Wes. That’s all.” She pushed him away and swiped at her eyes.  
“I can’t stare at that book any longer. Do you want a coffee?”  
She picked up her pipette and began working again. “You know I don’t drink coffee, you’ve already asked me five times.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“I should have tried to talk him into coming with me when I left. How could we think this place wouldn’t devour us?”

Wesley left her alone with her work. He went up the elevator and through the halls to Charles’ hospital bed. Fred was right. Even with the entire medical wing at their disposal, Charles was still being gutted from the inside out. Wesley used his I.D. card to swipe in and then went down the white corridor to Charles’ room.

Charles looked ghastly, his brown skin faded to a pale gray. His lips were turning blue. They’d been unable to administer intravenous fluids because his flesh had hardened like a shell. He still managed a smile when Wesley walked in.

“Your face tells me we’re on the last reel and the cavalry isn’t coming, are they?” Charles asked.  
“Fred is still working. She won’t give up.”  
“But you have.”  
“No, but I’ve been of little help, more of an impediment, really. She doesn’t need me.”  
“You and me both, man.”  
“That’s not true, Charles.”  
“I don’t know why I care.” He coughed into his hand. Wesley made a move to pat his back, but Charles waved him off. Charles got the fit under control and continued. “I guess she was the only person I had left, you know? We went into this and it felt like. Not a family, that would disrespect Alonna. But close. And it’s not like that now.”

“I know we are fragmented, but you will always be my friend. If I could take this from you, I would.” Wesley meant it. Of the two of them, Charles had always been the better man. He’d done more good in his time at Wolfram and Hart than Wesley had ever done. This was an unfair ending for a man who’d made the best of an unfair life. Besides, what did Wes have to cling to besides his dreams?

“I wish you could, too.” Charles smiled. “I’m kidding. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. It’s bad. I’m almost glad she won’t see me like this.”

The door opened and Fred walked in the room. Wesley immediately stood up. Charles looked at her, the knowledge that it was over hit him. He began to cry. Fred ran over. She grabbed Charles’ hand and both seemed to forget Wesley was even there.

“I’m so sorry, Charles.”  
“It’s not your fault, baby.”  
“I shouldn’t have left. I love you. I love you so much.” She leaned over and kissed his lips.  
“I love you, too, Fred. You’re the only thing I love.”  
Wesley moved to unobtrusively leave the room, when something happened. Charles began to convulse.  
“We need to get a doctor in here!” Fred shouted. Just as they’d started, Charles’ jerky movements stopped.  
“Oh God. He’s gone. He’s--” Charles spasmed and flung Fred across the room. Wesley caught her before she hit the wall. Wes had to hold her up because she was so shaken. They stood there, awe-struck, as Charles got up off the bed with preternatural poise. His skin and eyes were blue. Charles looked at his hands and made a fist.  
“This will do,” he said.  
“Charles?” Fred asked.  
“Illyria.” Wesley said, grimly.


	32. Chapter 32

Cordelia had not heard from Angel for three days. She wasn’t sure if he was still angry at her for being angry at him, or if something terrible had happened to him. Her nurses didn’t seem to know anything, other than that he was out of town on business.

At least with her isolation, she’d had some time to think. She wondered why her parents hadn’t come to her wedding, if the little woman in the pillbox hat was her mother-in-law, and where all her friends had gone. Angel told her Lorne had vanished. Fred was in Texas. Charles worked with Angel, but had never once visited. And Wesley.

Buffy, Willow and Xander had gone to her wedding, even after all the history between them, yet none of them had come to see her since she recovered. She didn’t even get any mail here. It’s like she’d ceased to exist. Had she done something horrible, like when everyone shunned Wes? She doubted her parents would have cared about that. They were freakishly supportive, even when she was at her worst. Besides, both of them had their own problems and weren’t prone to judge.

Perhaps she was a prisoner here, it all seemed to fit. Whether Angel intended her to be or not, she certainly was at that moment. If the Wolfram and Hart guys wanted Angel to lose his soul, what better way than to make her give him a moment of perfect happiness. Angelus would already be installed as boss.

She wanted to contact Wesley, but she didn’t know how. Since she had no access to computers or phones, the best bet would be a letter. A letter that would undoubtedly be read by whoever was pulling the strings, but she had to try.

When Jade came on, she asked her for pen, paper and an envelope. The young woman looked pensive for a second before she glanced at Bette, who shrugged.

“Yes, Ms. Chase. I can get that for you.”

A few minutes later she came back with high quality writing paper, a matching envelope and an expensive ink pen that looked like it was carved out of extinct animal horn. The nurses backed off and let her write. She only had one shot, since Jade only gave her one piece, so she deliberated before putting pen to paper.

Dear Wesley,

I am awake and really want to talk to you. There’s a lot I don’t remember, and I need you to fill in the gaps. I’m at Wolfram and Hart with Angel on the top floor. The view isn’t so great without you, though.

Love, Cordelia

She put it in the envelope and wrote his name on the outside. That was it; it would either get to him or wouldn’t. Hope was all she had. Jade took the envelope with the promise she’d find him. Afterward, she had trouble getting to sleep, so she picked up the copy of War and Peace Angel had left on her night stand. That did the trick.

The next day dragged on with more physical therapy and more attempts at eating solid food which weren’t going great. At least she was thinner than she’d ever been, but her ass had gone the way of the hyper-color t shirt.

Speaking of which, she hadn’t set eyes on a fashion magazine or a television set in god knows how long. Exercise had left her with literally no other energy to care. It must have been a testament to how much better she felt that she’d finally noticed.

At around one, Clementine came in with a special surprise that absolutely turned the day around. She came in carrying a blue-eyed bundle of little boy.

“Mr. Angel called, he’s sorry he hasn’t been able to see you. He said I should reintroduce you two.” Clementine set the chubby toddler down. He couldn’t have been more adorable with his floppy brown hair, big smile and blue overalls.

Cordi opened her arms and he waddled over to her. “Connor!”

She was just strong enough to pick him up and hoist him onto the bed with her.

“When you’re feeling well enough, we can go play in his room. It’s like FAO Schwartz exploded in there. I thought you could use a pick-me-up.”

“I did. Thank you.” Cordi nuzzled the baby’s face, and he giggled. “Aren’t you the smiliest little guy? So...is there TV in his room?”


	33. Chapter 33

Six Weeks Later  
Angel hadn’t been up to see Cordelia since Illyria had decided to inhabit his most competent associate. He’d told himself that it was because he’d been so busy, but deep down he knew he couldn’t face her rage. Angel had kept an eye on her through the closed circuit cameras, just to make sure she was safe, but seeing her had only made him more reluctant to lose her.

At first he’d been needed to travel to the Deeper Well, then he and Fred and Wesley had fought to contain Illyria. When Illyria realized his kingdom was no more and there was no place for him in the world, the deity had tumbled into a bit of a funk.

Illyria had begun to slip through time, threatening to destroy the fabric of reality. That had been a lot of late nights. Fred and Wes came up with a machine to stop it from destroying the world. After that, everything sort of calmed down, but Angel found his work load tripled without Charles’ help.

Surprisingly, he’d been able to delegate a lot to Wes. Working with Wes now, Angel was confident he’d mostly regained his sanity.

It was getting late, and they were working in Wes’ office. Fred had gone back to her hotel hours ago and Illyria wandered, as was his wont. None of the other staff felt comfortable enough to disturb them.

“I think I’ve found a way to drain the Lotharian Sects coffers without alerting any of the group. We own their credit union.”

“That’s handy,” Angel said, tossing an inflatable basketball in the air. They’d gotten it free from a pharmaceutical company that wanted to put out addictive pills to combat double chins. The pills didn’t actually do anything to fix double chins. Of course they’d turned them down, but the rep insisted Angel keep the basketball.

Wesley began going through some of his correspondence. He picked up a letter that had come through inter-office mail. He opened it and took the sheaf of paper out.

“We can close their accounts and--” The letter in his hand trembled.

“What’s wrong?” Angel got up from the couch and approached his desk.

Wesley looked up at him, tears in his eyes. “You’ve been keeping her prisoner. You let me believe she’d never existed.”

“Wes, I, it was for her. To save her.”

Wesley set the letter down and looked at him blankly. “Save who? What are we talking about?”

“You don’t remember?”

Wesley glanced down at the letter, and his anger returned. “She was everything to me. My wife. What did you do to her?”

The accusations and the forgetfulness repeated three times before Angel could get the letter away from him. When he did, Wesley fell into near catatonia for a few minutes. Angel had no idea that this was how the “charm” worked. He hadn’t thought of how Wolfram and Hart had erased Cordelia from her friend’s lives before, but the reality was horrific.

Angel read the letter, wondering if it would have the same effect on him. Unfortunately, he remembered every word when he finished.

Dear Wesley,  
I know you’re not getting these, or you’d at least have written to tell me to stop. I remember that much about you. Writing them makes me feel better, though.

The only person I talk to all day only knows the words yes, no, daddy and doodie. I’m trying to teach the baby to say Cordelia, but that’s kind of advanced, even for most adults.

I had another dream about you last night. We killed a dragon together. I lured it out of a bus terminal using this glowing crystal thingie. It looked a lot like the paperweight you used to keep on your desk. You used your Prothgarian broadsword to chop off its head. Funny how I remember specific weapons better now than when we actually used them.

Somehow we got back to my apartment and you made me some coffee. I think we talked about bread and in this dream I was in love with you. I wish I remembered how that had happened in real life. Did it? Did we love each other, Wes, in that more than friends way?

The part I do remember about us, is when we would call each other every night. After Angel let us go, for a while you were closer to me than anybody else. I didn’t want to date then, the idea of it made me sick, but you were my work boyfriend. We used to joke about that to take a little of the sadness out. The truth was, you were there for me when we weren’t at work, too. I could stop by any time and you’d listen to me, offer me Scotch that I didn’t drink. You’d even keep diet root beer in the fridge because you knew I liked it, even though you thought it was the worst swill you’d ever tasted since setting foot in the new world.

We talked about why I was always single once, and the conversation went deeper than I wanted. You said it was because of what happened with Wilson and the Haxil demon. I remember you saying it was a rape, what happened to me, and what made it worse was that no one outside of the three of us would ever take it seriously. Putting a name on it made me feel better, got me back to a normal place. Normalish.

You always tried to catch me when I’d start to fall during my visions, even when you could barely stand yourself. We didn’t really touch aside from that. Maybe that’s why I could talk to you. That distance made me feel safe. We didn’t want each other then, but we needed one another. I’m laying here and I can’t imagine wanting you (just saying) but if I saw you, would that change? Your hands are haunting me, the way you’d touch things. I can’t remember what color your eyes are but I remember every scar on your hands. That makes no sense, but that’s how it is for me. I wish you were here so we could talk about it.

Please, let’s talk about it. --Cordelia

Angel blinked away tears. He looked at Wes, who seemed to be in suspended animation.

“Wes?”

Wesley shook his head, but still seemed logy. “Yes Angel. Did you need something?”

Angel knew he had to do something to stop all this. It was beyond cruel. “Could you write a letter for me?”

“Certainly.” Wesley took out stationary and a silver pen, both of which he’d received as a welcome gift for joining the Wolfram and Hart team. Or conjoining. Either way, the paper had his name engraved on the top. “What would you like me to write?”

“Please stop sending the letters. Seeing your name hurts me in ways you can’t imagine. I’ll always care for you and will try to see you soon. Wesley.”

Wesley copied down what Angel said without questioning it, still in a fog. “And to whom am I writing?”

“Cordelia.”

Wesley clutched his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t. What were we talking about?”

Angel slid the note out from under Wesley’s hand. He glanced over it and sealed it in an envelope. At least this way Wesley wouldn’t be continually subjected to memories of her.

Angel hadn’t wanted to face her, knowing what he did about Wesley, but he needed to take the letter to her.

Angel slipped out of Wesley’s office before the man could order his jumbled thoughts.


	34. Chapter 34

Cordi thought for a minute that she was dreaming when Angel opened the door to her room.

She’d had dreams like that before; he walked into the room and told her she was going home, or he’d bring Wesley in and they’d all play Jenga. At this point in her life she was so lonely that playing Jenga seemed thrilling. Her nurses had stopped with the small talk and Jade was just gone. When she asked about it, they all claimed not to know where she went. A few days after she was replaced, everyone acted like she’d never even been there. Cordi wondered if that’s how they’d act when she left. More and more she felt like that would never happen, though, because she would never leave.

Angel walked in and touched her hand. A real touch. He wore one of his purple shirts with the collar unbuttoned and an open suit jacket, like a man getting home from a long day’s work. She wondered what he’d been doing for the past few weeks.

“Is this happening?”  
“What? Of course it’s happening. I’m sorry I haven’t stopped by in a while.”  
“You’re sorry? I thought you were dead and they were lying to me. Why haven’t you been here?”  
“Charles died. The branch is falling apart without him. If I don’t keep things together, you don’t get better.”  
“Charles? How?”  
“It’s hard to explain.”  
“So try.”  
“Look, Cordi, I can’t stay. I just came up to give you this.” He handed her a letter on Wolfram and Hart stationary. She’d come to know it well over the past few weeks.  
“What is this?”  
“Just read it.”  
She slit open the envelope and took out the paper inside. She recognized Wes’ writing from all the notes he’d make while translating. This was Wes at his neatest, most thought out. It only took her a moment to grasp what was written there. The words made her feel stuck, like she couldn’t even cry, couldn’t even think. Wes didn’t want her either. No one did.  
“You saw Wesley. How is he?”  
Angel rearranged his limbs in the chair; for a second she thought he was just going to get up and leave. “Better than when you first got sick. He and Fred are kind of holding each other up.”  
“Fred.”  
“She came back to help Charlie.”  
“Wait,” something in her head clicked into place, something obvious she should have seen before. “Wesley works here? With you?”  
“Yes. I thought you understood that.”  
“But you said--”  
“Cordi, I have to go.” He stood up.  
“Wait. Please don’t leave me again.” She reached out and took his arm. He looked at her hand, his closed expression unchanged. “If this is the part in the story where the princess in the tower has to open her heart, I’m wide, wide open here.”  
“Does that make me the monster, Cordi? Is that what you think of me?”  
“No!” She untied the strings holding up her ridiculous pink nightgown and let the top fall into her lap. “Spend the night with me.”  
“Cordi, no.”  
“Whatever I did to make you leave, I’m sorry. Please, who do you want me to be? I can be blonde, I can be Russian. I do a really great Catholic school girl--”  
“I want you to be quiet.” He snapped, yanking his sleeve out of her grasp. “I’m sorry,” he said as he bent down and tied one side of her nightie, then the other. Then he looked her pointedly in the eye. “You’re better than that.”  
“I’m really not, though,” she said with a mirthless laugh.  
“Then try to be.”  
He stormed out and slammed the door. She stared at the white walls in her room, feeling every bit as empty inside.


	35. Chapter 35

Fred had asked him to come back to Texas with her. This time Wesley was seriously considering it. His dreams had largely subsided in the past few months and his episodes had decreased. He’d locked away the notebook. Without the pills, things were clearer and he was certain Wolfram and Hart had been trying to destroy him, just as they’d destroyed Charles.

He was beginning to doubt the woman he’d been obsessed with truly existed. Even though she seemed like a force for good in his life, she was likely a creation of his demonic overlords.

Still, there was only one way to be sure.

The Winkie's restaurant had been closed for hours, so there was no chance Wes would cause a commotion when he tried to summon the Loa this time.

“If this doesn’t work, I’m going to kill that wizard,” Wes said as he spread powder around the hamburger statue. The powder consisted of the pineal gland of an ancient Himalayan holy man and some glitter he’d picked up at the craft store. He wasn’t sure the glitter was necessary, but the wizard he spoke to said it was nice to “dress up the presentation.”

“Mange sec Loa, alegba, please accept this offering and open the gates of truth.”

Suddenly there was a flash and the statue transformed from an inert figure to a living, breathing entity. It reminded him a little of the claymation sequence in “Better Off Dead,” another movie he’d watched in a futile attempt to impress Fred.

“I come in supplication, Loa, seeking the truth of my dreams.”

The burger’s eyes gleamed red. “How dare you call on the…” The Loa put his hands on, not his hips, but where his hips would be if he wasn’t completely round. “Oh shit. It’s you again.”

Wesley was taken aback.

“We’ve met before?”

The Loa sighed and squatted down. “Yeah, kid. Pull up some curb. There’s a lot we’ve got to talk about. You’re here about a girl, right?”

“Yes. Is the woman I’ve been dreaming of real?”  
“She’s real all right. Once upon a time she turned back time to save your life. You’ve been enchanted so that every time you see her name or her face you forget it. Let’s start by obliterating that.” The Loa snapped his fingers. Tension drained from Wesley’s head and down his shoulders. He felt about an inch taller.

“There, that’s one little problem solved. The woman in your dreams is Cordelia Chase. The last time we talked, I kind of screwed you over,” The Loa dug his toe into the ground and put his hands behind his back. “She took you off the path of doom I set you on. Cordelia’s destined to become a higher power upon her death. If I’d known she was going to choose you to be the father of her child, I wouldn’t have validated that bum prophecy.”

“You’re saying Cordelia and I were fated to be together.”

“No, I said she chose you. She didn’t even know she was going to do that before she did it, how the hell was I supposed to know?”

“Why would she choose me?”

“I have no idea. Most of the odds-makers were saying she’d pick the Grooselogg or go with the souled vampire. I mean, she had Comschock and Cyrumption to choose from, there was no way anyone thought she’d pick the wan English twat who kissed like a hacksaw. Some American women go in for the accent, though. It’s pretty silly.”

“How do you know how I kiss? Was that another thing we did the last time you saw me?”

The hamburger crossed his arms in front of himself and arched a beefy brow, letting Wesley know he was unimpressed. “Please. I’m so old I’m beyond gender and sexuality. Even if I wasn’t, the last thing that turned me on took the form of a nine-armed chili dog.”

“I wouldn’t know about that, mighty Loa. I tend to favor sweets over savory.”

“Yeah, very funny.”

“Why would someone place a charm on me to make me forget her?”

“It was more than a charm. Your memories of her have been removed. However, time bends around you, you’re wrapped in worlds that were, but shall never be again. That’s why you’ve been able to retain shadows of her. You know well the only people with the power to steal your life from you.”

He didn’t even have to think on that one. “Wolfram and Hart. But why?”

“Everything you need to know about the how and why is in your notebook, the one you keep in the safety deposit box you took such pains to hide.”

“Clearly not enough pains.”

“There’s a man in Topenga who can sell you a spell for an unintelligible glamour, stealth enough to fool even Wolfram and Hart’s detection methods.”

“She’s being kept prisoner in Wolfram and Hart, then.”

“Yeah, but it’s more complicated than that. Find her within the next twenty four hours, or you’ll lose her forever. Now I shall leave you, before I forfeit even more of my mystique. Trouble the Loa no more. Seriously, I’ve done my penance here, don’t lay any more of this crap on my doorstep. I’m sorry I offended a higher power to be, but from here on out all is forgiven. Right?”

“Right.”

“Awesome sauce.” The Loa gave him the thumbs up.

With that, the Loa shrunk down to his previous form as the friendly Winkie’s mascot.

**  
The man in Topenga with the unintelligible glamour was not as easy to find as the Loa implied. His shop was located underground, and Wesley had to pay off a Selkie demon in order to draw him a crummy map to it on a napkin.

Wesley drove around the block in his rented car four times before he found the entrance, then he had to solve a series of riddles in Aramaic and jump through an honest-to-goodness hoop. When he finally got inside, the clerk was polite to the point of obsequiousness. Apparently all the riddles and hoops were bad for business, so he was grateful for the clientele. Wesley held his tongue and paid through the nose for his magical bauble.

It was a simple black crystal, that inspired very little confidence. The man behind the counter smiled broadly.

“This artifact is very special because you can use it again and again. Whisper the name or thing you want to copy while you hold it in your right hand. That’s all you have to do. We’ve gotten a lot of good feedback on these for ease of use.”

“Lovely,” Wesley said.

After he left the charm purveyor, he picked up his notebook from the safe deposit box. It was wrapped in brown paper and stuffed in a velvet bag as a preventative measure because Wesley tended to hallucinate and lose time when he looked at it too long. He wasn’t certain that wouldn’t happen again, even though the Loa told him he’d removed the charm. He could recall Cordelia’s name, he knew she was his wife, but he could not see her face in his mind’s eye.

He wanted to go someplace safe to open it where no one from Wolfram and Hart would track him. Paradoxically, he knew of a place where he was guaranteed complete privacy and no one would question why he’d gone there.

The demon brothel had a “secret” room. He knew it was genuinely secret because he’d set it up himself. When he briefly left Angel’s employ, Wesley had undertaken many ethically dubious jobs to keep himself indoors. The proprietor had paid him handsomely and spared no expense to purchase the best in anti-magical and technological surveillance wards. He’d never be able to afford it on his own budget, or even with the entire year’s budget he had at his disposal at Wolfram and Hart.

Whoring was quite lucrative if done right.

Madame Anita smiled at him as he walked in the door.

“Mr. Pryce. Your room’s ready.” Her green eyes sparkled at him.

“Thank you, Anita.”

When he was alone, Wesley removed the notebook from its protective coverings. What he found shocked him. The cover was scrawled with notes, on top of that were post its fluttering on the surface like odd plumage. Some of the handwriting was his, but much of it wasn’t: Fred, Charlie, even Harmony had written things down. More than half the notes contained Cordelia’s name, over and over again. Of course because of the enchantment he could not see them. No one could.

Cordelia Chase, your wife. The mother of your daughter. Greta Belzug.

They didn’t make sense. He had no idea where his daughter might be or how the seer Greta Belzug factored into the picture. Wesley put the notes in a row on the bed, spelling out a story he’d half remembered.

Cordi worked with Angel.  
She was a seer.  
She was my best friend.  
She is my wife.  
Angel has her.  
Penthouse.  
Key code. 1191981  
Angel loved her.  
Angel stole her.  
Angel took her away.  
Baby gone forever.  
Sunnydale.  
Prom.  
Justine slit my throat.

Wesley touched his neck. He had no notion of who Justine was, but his throat had never been slit, even though the note had been in his handwriting. 

He opened the notebook, flipped past the Claddagh symbols and landed smack dab on a sketch of her face, drawn in worshipful detail. On the next page he found her lying naked on her back. The work was Angel’s. He must have watched her sleeping for hours to get every curve right. Perhaps he’d had her memory erased as well, or was keeping her in a state of perpetual madness. He might be touching her now for all Wesley knew.

Something seemed to pop inside his brain. He’d become so angry that his rage had gone from hot to cold. Calmness descended on him like a dusting of snow.

He looked through the rest of the notebook at the drawings Angel had made of Cordelia for more information, while he came up with a plan to see her again.


	36. Chapter 36

His preparations took three days to bring to fruition. First he’d made certain Fred was beyond Wolfram and Hart’s reach. She’d taken Illyria with her as well; instead of going to Texas, she and her parents skipped to an alternate reality. It was nearly identical to their world, but it didn’t contain shrimp.

Wesley wasn’t sure if he and Cordelia would join them later. That would be largely up to her. 

Calling Angel away was easy. Wesley told his boss of a very real nest of vampires in Las Vegas rumored to be endangering the slayer. That was also true, just not the slayer Angel was interested in. Her name happened to be Cassandra and she looked enough like Buffy to have confused Faith once or twice. Faith had told him about Cassandra the last time she’d been in town.

Wes convinced Angel to borrow his rental car because Wolfram and Hart had tracers on all their vehicles. When Angel took the keys, Wesley had to force himself not to stake him. He knew if he killed Wolfram and Hart’s golden boy, their affiliates would descend upon him en masse. He’d never reach Cordelia before that happened. God knows what they’d do to her without Angel there.

So he’d smiled and politely asked Angel to refill the vehicle before returning it to the rental place. As he patted the vampire on the back, Wesley palmed Angel’s ID card.

After that, it was easy to get back into the building looking like Angel. He went right up to the top floor, let himself into the suite using the key code and went into Angel’s bedroom. While Connor’s room was separated from Angel’s by a short hallway, Cordelia’s was adjacent. There was a wall of one way glass so he could look at her without being detected right next to the door that led to her. Wesley swallowed his outrage and opened her door. As Angel he didn’t even need to speak to the nurses on duty to dismiss them. They filed out of the room as though that’s what they were trained to do.

Cordelia’s bed had been placed by the window so she could look out at the night sky. She couldn’t see him walk in and he could only see the back of the bed. He dropped the glamour and walked over to her, a new worry on his mind. Perhaps she was in no state to be moved, perhaps she was recovering from a terrible injury. He had no idea if she’d even be conscious now that he’d finally found her.

“Angel?” Her voice was familiar. Much like the voice in his head but more ragged, smaller somehow. “Are you still angry?”

He finally turned the corner and could see her face. There was no real frame of reference to know how she used to look in comparison to now. In his dreams, her features were always obscured. She seemed healthy, flawless and much more beautiful than the drawings. Her mouth was a touch too wide for her face, which made her prettier somehow. Her hair was longer than in his dreams and it was streaked with honey-coloured highlights. She wore an odd purple negligee in shiny satin with orange ruffles accentuating her breasts. It looked distinctly out of place on her amid the medical trappings of the white room. Her large brown eyes got even bigger when she saw him. She covered her mouth with her hand. Her fingernails were painted to match the nightie. Someone had made up her face, coiffed her hair and dressed her as though she awaited a fashion shoot. He found it unnervingly perverse.

“Wesley?”

“You know me?” He realized he was holding his breath.

“I’ve known you for years.” Her smile was the saddest thing he’d ever seen.

“And what am I to you?”

“We were friends. Best friends. I know we were married, but I don’t remember any of it--I don’t remember falling in love with you. I’ve been trying to contact you for two months, ever since I found out but you never wrote me back until--” She handed him a crumpled piece of paper. He read it.

“It’s my handwriting, but I don’t remember writing it at all.”

“There’s a lot of that going around.” She stared down at her perfectly manicured nails.

“I’ve lost so much of my memory. It was stolen from me by those in the upper echelon of Wolfram and Hart. I wasn’t sure you were even real until just now.”

“So I’m basically a stranger to you?” Her voice broke on the word stranger.

“I remember making love to you.” Wesley wished he hadn’t blurted that out. At least the tears threatening to fall from her eyes were banished in laughter.

“Great, that’s the part I still don’t get.”

They were silent for a moment. He looked at his shoes, she at the ceiling. She was right, they were strangers, but at least she knew where he fit into her life. He had fragments of memories and had built her up into a great savior, the answer to his prayers and the cure to his loneliness. In reality she was a woman who’d lived her own life, been subjected to her own horrors. He had to relearn her like a lost language. For the first time it occurred to him that she may not want to be with him when this was all over. That would have to be a concern for another hour. They needed to leave. He snuck a glance at her.

“Well then,” Wesley finally said. “I’m here to rescue you.”  
She smiled, and made a little hmmph sound, the beginnings of a laugh.  
“How do you know I want to be rescued?”  
“Because you’re a champion, not a slave.”

That arrow struck true. She wiped her eyes and tilted her chin up.

“I can’t walk very far, but there’s a wheelchair in the corner. I don’t know how we’ll get past my nurses, though.” Slowly she moved her legs to the edge of the bed. He walked over to the wheelchair and maneuvered it back to her.  
“I’ve got a glamour. I’ll look like Angel when I wheel you out.”  
“Clever. That’s the Wes I know.”  
“If you don’t mind my asking, what happened to you that you should need all this?”  
“Four month coma. Before that I guess I was crushed by monsters.”  
“You look very well. I wouldn’t have guessed.”  
“Wish I could say the same for you, bubba. You look a lot older than I remember.” She said it without cruelty. “Did you maybe, possibly bring any normal clothes for me to wear? Like something in the way of pants?”  
“No, I hadn’t thought. But you can wear my coat.” He’d worn a black overcoat that would not have looked out of place on Angel in case someone approached him from the back while the glamour was down. He’d figured a few extra seconds might mean life or death.  
Wesley shrugged out of the coat and handed it to her. She slid it on.  
“It’s nice and warm. I think they keep it chilly in here so my nipples stay hard.”  
“I hadn’t noticed,” he lied.  
“Sure you didn’t.” She reached her arms out to him. “Little help, please.”  
She slung her arm over his shoulders. He eased her onto her feet. As she stood in his arms Wesley suddenly felt overheated. She rested her forehead against his and whimpered. Her chest rose and fell very fast; she was panting and he didn’t know if it was from the effort of moving or because they were close. His own breath became rapid and sweat prickled his back. Her hair brushed his cheek as she brought her lips closer to his ear.  
“Your collar smells like Burberry.”  
“Do you like it?” he asked, softly.  
“It makes me confused.”  
“I don’t wish to confuse you.”  
“But you do. You’re still the same person I knew, but now when you touch me it feels different.”  
“Good different?”  
“I don’t know.”  
He scooped her up from where she stood, making her gasp in surprise. Wesley figured the best thing to do would be to change the subject. He placed her in the wheel chair.  
“If we get caught, I’ll do the talking. That’s what Angel would do, isn’t it? I’m not sure if the glamour will change the tenor of my voice, though.”  
“Is your American accent any good?”  
He scrunched up his face and moved his hand like a see saw. “Eh.”  
“We’re up against ultimate evil here. Give me more than that.”  
“Alright, Angel is not the loquacious sort on the best of of days. I’ll keep it monosyllabic. Our cover story is that we’re seeing Q’resh Al Hani. He’s a soothsayer who works out of Laurel Canyon, very much Wolfram and Hart approved.”  
“Some soothsayer in Laurel Canyon, got it.”  
“Would you at least attempt to pronounce his name?”  
“Look, I’ve got to me it up here, Wes. There’s no way anyone who’s ever met me would believe I’d bother to remember Q’resh Al Hani’s name, let alone pronounce it right.”  
He gave her a dopey half smile.  
“What’s that look about?” she asked.  
“I think I figured something out.” He activated the glamour and wheeled her out of the room.

**  
Cordelia wasn’t sure how she should look; happy to be getting out, nervous? She settled for slightly neuseous because that was how she actually felt. Her acting teacher always told her use what you have for every scene.

Wes as Angel wheeled her through Angel’s bedroom. It shocked her that his bed was so close to her door. The two way mirror shocked her even more. Angel must have watched her even when he was keeping away. She’d longed for his company. During that time she'd assumed he’d at least been on the other side of the building, but he hadn’t. He’d probably seen her crying and hadn’t done anything to comfort her. He’d probably seen her doing everything, even the humiliating stuff like pooping in a bedpan or throwing up her lunch. She’d never wanted to punch anyone more than she did right then.

Mia and the new nurse, Likki, eyed them as they walked out; she’d had no idea where they went when Angel was with her. Apparently, they'd been hanging out at a nurses’ station next to the elevator where they could watch T.V., eat snacks and nap. Cordelia wondered how they were alerted that Angel was leaving; normally they came in right after he left. If the nurses were watching her on camera, it stands to reason someone would have barged into her room a while ago.

Unless she and Wes were walking into a trap.

“How long will you be gone?” Likki asked.

Wesley gave her the most Angel look Cordi had ever seen, cold enough to freeze a hot mocha latte solid. She realized that she really missed coffee because she'd been thinking in latte metaphors for weeks.

“Sorry,” Likki said, and ducked her head down.  
“It's okay. We're going to see some soothe sayer in Laurel Canyon?”  
“Oh,” Mia's dark eyebrows bounced up in surprise. “Good luck.”

Wes pressed the button for the elevator and together they waited. Cordelia's shoulders hitched up with tension. Wes touched her shoulder with Angel's hand. It helped soothe her, but when the bell dinged and the doors opened, she still jumped a little bit. They went into the elevator. She watched Mia and Likki as the doors closed. For the first time since she'd woken up there, Cordi actually thought her nurses might genuinely care about her because of the looks of concern on their faces.

She wondered who Q'resh al Hani was to inspire that kind of fear, but conversation was out of the question given where they were standing. The doors opened on the next floor and a few lawyers entered. They nodded to Wes, but thankfully didn't speak. They all seemed nervous around him, beyond the kind of nervous she assumed most people were around their bosses. She was never nervous around any boss, which had been her curse and her gift.

They continued to take on more people. When they reached the thirteenth floor a blonde girl stepped in, sniffling into a tissue. The girl looked up and Cordelia blurted out her name without thinking.

“Harmony?”

Harmony blew her nose. “Hey, Cordi. Bossy. Sorry about this but I just found out my almost boyfriend is visiting a demon brothel right now and I can't believe he'd go for a cheap whore when I could give him exactly what he wants, like to death. I mean it. Oh, by the way, boss, Wesley is at a demon brothel right now.” Harmony paused a minute. “Wait, why are you here, Cordelia?”

Cordi couldn't really process what she'd just heard, but the embarrassment on Angel/Wesley's face told her more than she really wanted to know.

“You can see her?” Wesley had been talking down his American accent. It was enviably flawless.

Harmony rolled her red eyes. “Duh. She's sitting right there. You smell weird. Why do you smell weird? Like Burberry.”

Before Cordelia could say anything to Wes she heard a click. A stake came out of Wesley's sleeve and he plunged it into Harmony's chest. Harmony's mouth fell open, before she crumbled into a pile of dust. The other folks in the elevator collectively gasped and stepped back. One woman looked like she was subtly trying to climb the wall to get away from him.

“What the hell was that?” Cordelia asked.  
“I'm sensitive,” Wesley said.  
Gordon Park jammed his thumb repeatedly against the button for the next floor. When they reached it, everyone but Wesley and Cordelia scrambled out. Once they were alone, she looked up at him.

“Are you going to explain any of that?”

“In full, when we are in a place other than here.”

The doors opened on the parking garage. Wesley wheeled her to the nearest car; a Dodge Viper. He lifted her up.

“Are you sure you don't want to pick something a little less flashy?”

“For our first date on the outside? I want to impress you. Besides, this is the one I always drive.”

He was still talking like Angel, so she knew they weren't safe yet. He placed her in the passenger side. She watched him fold up the wheelchair and put it in the trunk. Her heart thrummed. Wesley got into the driver's seat.

“Now we're going to drive through the garage. The guard at the front knows me quite well. He may not even ask for my ID card, but I've got it handy just in case.”

They cruised past the other cars, each one flashier than the next.  
“These all belong to An-you?”  
“Yes, they're mine.”  
Cordelia decided to act the way she would if she were really with Angel. “And you expect me to believe that this was all about me?”  
He smirked, wearing Angel's smile “They gave me all of this, I didn't ask for it.”  
“And why do you think they did that?”  
“I'm the face of the company now.”

They pulled up to the front kiosk where the guard sat. He was a demon who looked a bit like a puffer fish. His skin fluctuated in shade from white to hot pink and back again. He smiled at Wesley.

“Big night, boss?” The guard leaned in to see them and leered at Cordelia.  
“I hope so.” Wes handed over the ID card and the creature ran it through a machine. Angel's face flashed on the screen. Then he handed it back.  
“Have a good time.”

Wesley nodded and smiled. He rolled up the window. They pulled out of the garage and turned down the street. She looked at the lights on the skyscrapers. She was traveling on the street when just a few minutes prior she'd been looking down on it all, observing. The city had seemed as distant as the stars; she could stare all she wanted but there was no way she'd ever become part of it again.

“I can't believe I'm here.”  
“You're not there yet.” He turned on some classical music. She didn't recognize the artist, but she was pretty sure she heard it in a Stanley Kubrick movie. Then she recalled the film.  
“Oh yeah. 'Eyes Wide Shut.”  
“I'm not much for conversation right now, Cordi.” He put his hand on her leg.  
Cordelia was prepared to tell him off, when she realized he was using his finger to draw an arrow on her upper thigh. She followed the direction with her eyes and noticed a pinhole in the dashboard. They were on camera.

They drove in silence for long minutes. The city changed around them from the downtown business district to a crummier area. They passed by burnt out houses and empty store fronts. He pulled up to the pumps at a gas station. The brick walls of the shop were scarred with bullet holes. The poor clerk stared out at them from behind two layers of Plexiglas  
Wesley got out, still looking like Angel, without bothering to shut off the car. He went to her side, opened the door and picked her up.

“What's happening?”  
“I'm meeting a friend.” They walked to the back of the gas station. She hadn’t expected to see someone she recognized.  
“Rondell?” Cordi scrunched up her face. “I thought you kind of despised us.”  
Wesley dropped the glamour. “We’ve made amends.”  
“It wasn’t against you, Cordelia. Anyway, Wes helped me out since Charlie died.”  
She looked at Wes’ face. He seemed a touch uncomfortable. “It was quite literally the least I could do.”  
“Fine, you want to be English about it.” Rondell said. “Anyway, here's your ride. A little less fancy than your last one.” He pointed to a crummy Plymouth Sundance. She couldn't really tell the color, other than it was light. “But it has the added benefit of not bringing down the death squad.”  
“Thank you. This has saved our lives.”  
“Yeah, well, it’s nothing to me.” He shrugged and sniffed. “We’re even now.”  
“There's something from Charles I'd like you to have.” Wesley shuffled her around as he grabbed an envelope out of his back pocket. He handed it to Rondell, who opened it to find a wad of bills.  
“You didn’t have to do this.” Rondell’s voice quavered.  
Wesley carried her to the car and set her inside. He glanced at her face and let out a soft puff of air, almost a sigh before standing to face Rondell.  
“I didn’t. Charlie did. There’s the deed to your grandmother’s house in there, too. He did the legal work to get it out of foreclosure and paid off before his death.”  
“I thought he hated me.”  
“No. He always regretted the way you parted ways, but was never certain how to put it right. This was his attempt. I’m sorry he hadn’t the chance to give it to you himself.”  
Rondell grabbed Wesley into a bear hug. Stunned, he just patted Rondell on the back. Rondell shoved him away.  
“Now get the fuck out of here. I’ve seen enough corpses.” Rondell said.   
Wesley shut her door, got into his seat. He drove out of the parking lot in the opposite direction they'd been going. Rondell’s figure was swallowed by the building as they passed. Cordelia turned from the window to study Wesley’s profile, a silhouette against the window.  
“I guess that was a successful escape. We only needed to kill one of my high school friends.”  
“She was going to give us away.”  
“No, I get the stabby stabby, that was the self-explanatory part of the mayhem. I mean the thing where she thought you're her boyfriend.”  
“Would you believe me if I told you it wasn't what it looked like?”  
“I might.”  
“I was trying to get information. I had a dream, and you mentioned a girl named Harmony from Sunnydale. When I questioned her she came on to me. The only thing I could think to do to keep from raising her suspicions short of sleeping with her was to let her bite me. I'm sorry, darling, I know it was foolish. I didn't mean to betray you.”

“Betray me? Okay, you could have banged a perpetually 18-year-old Harmony or risked getting drained by a vampire in order to find out more about me, and you chose the blood-letting option. That's loyalty to the point of stupidity.”

“So you're not angry?”

“Oh, I'm angry. Don't ever risk your life like that again, nimrod. When we were in the elevator you acted surprised she knew me.”

“I wasn’t the only one affected by the memory charm. Apparently it’s been broken because Rondell knew you, too. Beforehand all of your contemporaries had forgotten you to greater or lesser degrees. The closer they were, the less they knew of you.”

“My parents?” Cordi felt like she was choking. Her isolation made so much more sense in the context of things. The cruelty of it was breathtaking. Something only Wolfram and Hart could have done--or Angelus.

“Yes,” he hissed. “Everyone except Angel.”

She could feel the rage boiling off of him.

“I still can’t believe he’d do this to us.” 

“But he did. Never forget that he did, Cordelia.”

“I need to call my mom.”

“No. That’s the first place he’ll look when he realizes you’re gone.”

“But they don’t know me.”

“And they’re safer for it.”

For the first time in her life she was at a loss for words. Cordelia sat there silently as the landscape outside the car window changed. The pawn shops and bodegas gave way to elaborately decorated storefronts displaying luxury goods.They passed through a scrolled gate shaped like a pagoda into Chinatown. Wesley drove by the tourist-type shops and turned down a street she’d never seen before. He parked the car, leaving the keys in the ignition and the windows rolled down. He performed the ritual of lifting her out. She could certainly have walked herself, at least for a short distance, but she had no shoes. If that didn’t speak to the arrangement she’d just escaped, than nothing else would.

She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. This was the longest she’d been without a nap since her accident. “Not to harp on it, but I could really use some footwear, and an article of clothing that successfully covers my ass.”

“Unfortunately, you won’t find any of that here. Well, maybe some thigh high boots, but I don’t think you’ll feature those until a later stage of your recovery.”

“Wes, where the hell are we?” She looked up to see a normal looking store front with a discreet sign. She squinted at the lettering. “Madame Drew’s. Wait, is she like an actual madame?”

“Dominatrix. I did some work for her. She agreed to let me place a portal in her establishment.”

“Is that a sex thing?”

He chuckled as he awkwardly rang the bell to be let in. “No. It’s a magical escape hatch that closes after one use. I put two in, each going to separate places in case I’d ever need it.”

“Can we get back from there, the wherever it is?”

“Yes, but not through the portal. I imagine we’ll have to take a bus.”

A young woman answered the door; or at least that’s what she looked like at first. Her eyes were like a cat’s and her teeth as well. 

“Mr. Wyndam-Pryce and...guest?”

“Yes Loricia. Is your mother home?”

The cat girl smiled and smoothed her black hair behind her pointed, furry ear. “Madame Drew is in her office. I’ll send you right in.”   
Loricia stepped out of the way and gestured for them to walk down the hallway. The floors were highly polished dark wood, the walls creamy white and hung with pictures of animals dressed in Victorian costumes.   
“Was that really the Madame’s daughter?”  
“Technically, but they’re more like sisters. Their species reproduce in genetically identical chains, the previous egg forming the next.”  
They got to Madame Drew’s office. She stood up from her gleaming, red lacquered desk. Wes was right; she looked just like Loricia down to the red silk dress.   
“Please come in, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce.”  
“I was hoping we could have my room.” Wesley held Cordelia closer.  
“The dungeon is booked solid for the next two months.”  
“Not that room, the one I used last night,” he said, hurriedly.  
Her cat eyes widened. “Oh yes. That I can help you with.”  
She led them through her eerily quiet, maze-like establishment. At the end of a long hallway she opened a door to a room that wouldn’t have looked strange at a Ramada Inn.  
“Have a good evening.” Madame Drew bowed her head slightly and made a discreet exit. Wesley kicked the door shut after her.   
“Dungeon, huh?” Cordi arched her eyebrow at him.  
He set her down on the bed. “It was a while ago, when I first settled in Los Angeles.”   
Wesley dragged the dresser away from the chocolate brown wall.  
“I’m pretty sure I’d never be into that.” Cordi tucked his coat around herself, feeling uneasy.   
“Well, let’s not quarrel about something neither of us remember.” He knocked on the wall three times while speaking some strange language she hadn’t bothered to learn despite ample opportunities at Angel Investigations.

The wall started to swirl. “Shall I carry you, or do you think you can make it?”  
“I can manage.” She inched off the bed. He took her hand and together they walked through the miasma.

One second they’d been indoors on a plush carpet, the next they were standing in sand. It was night time on a rocky beach, the sound of the surf pounding filled her ears. Salt and smoke tinged the cold air. There were distant lights on the black water; boats far from shore. The rest of the beach was unlit. She wobbled on the loose ground and had to lean heavily on Wesley to stay upright. He seemed to know where he was going, so she limped along at his side.

“Where are we?”  
“Bath.”  
“England?”  
“Maine.”  
“So what’s your plan?”  
“There’s a cottage further up. We spend the night. In the morning we drive into town and buy you some proper clothes. Then we try to contact Willow.”  
“Willow? Aren’t we trying to get away from Angel? Calling Buffy’s right hand woman might not be the greatest plan.”  
“Yes, but she could heal you.” He folded his head down, his voice so soft it could barely be heard above the din of waves. “And me. We might get ourselves back.”  
“Wes,” she moved closer to him. He was shivering in the cold because he’d given her his coat. “I don’t think Sunnydale is safe.”  
“Oh, that’s right, you don’t know. Sunnydale is no more. Buffy is an international crime fighter with a network of slayers and Willow is the most powerful being on earth.”  
“Holy crap. I feel like a real slouch with that coma thing.”   
If he smiled, she couldn’t see it. 

They walked up an incline toward a squarish, white blob that slowly became a cabin upon approach. Wind chimes tinkled around the entrance. Wesley took a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. Together they went inside. He flipped on the lights, illuminating a simple open-spaced design. The kitchen was on the lefthand side, painted in seafoam blue. A wooden table and chairs sat in the middle of the room. On the righthand side was a sectional couch in dark brown cupped around a stone fireplace. There was a television inconveniently placed on some book shelves against the farthest wall. All in all a pleasant place for a short vacation. It didn’t look particularly Wesley. It didn’t look particularly anything. 

“How many bedrooms?” Cordi slumped onto the couch, her legs radiating pain.  
“Just one. I’m sorry for being overly enthusiastic.”  
“It’s okay, this couch is really comfortable.”  
“Cordelia,” he huffed, “I’m not letting you take the couch.”  
“No kidding. I was just saying you’ll be comfortable.”  
This time she did see his wry smile.   
“Shall we go directly? You look wrung out.” He paused for a moment. “But still very pretty of course.”  
“Of course.”  
Cordi got to her feet, though she was certain she looked rickity while doing it; Wes hovered by her looking like he wanted to swoop in and carry her again. She almost wouldn’t have minded, but her pride couldn’t take the hit.   
“Do you have a pair of pajamas I can borrow?” She used the walls in the short hallway for support as she limped along. They entered the bedroom and he flicked on the overhead light.  
“Certainly, though you’re already dressed for bed.”  
“I’m dressed for sex. Big difference,” Cordi said wearily as she plopped on the bed. He winced visibly, and she regretted her candor for maybe the millionth time. He turned to the dresser in the corner. It was made of dark wood and decorated with a ship in a bottle. The whole room had a kitchy nautical feel; sky blue walls, plaid navy comforter and a print of a man’s back facing a raging sea. She was pretty sure the picture was famous and old. He slid the top drawer open and began rooting around.  
“The bathroom is stocked with toothpaste and clean brushes. There’s some products--I’m not sure if they’re the correct ones.”  
“Products?”  
He lifted out a white t shirt and some blue flannel pajama pants.   
“Make up remover, face cream. I had a dream you used Chanel.”

“I do. I can’t really afford it--”

“But you can’t afford not to. You said that, in the dream.” He grinned as he handed her the clothes. The revelation that he’d gotten her skin care regime right seemed to make him really happy. “There are some clothes. I wasn’t certain of your size so there are some tights and sweaters for the morning, you’ll probably be swimming in the sweaters but that might be better than...you’re used to. And there are some canvas shoes. I got all the sizes between six and ten, so one pair is bound to fit.”

She wanted to dissolve into tears at his thoughtfulness. Instead she hoisted up a smile.

“Canvas, huh? You couldn’t have scored me some Prada?”

“Surprisingly, they didn’t have any of the more important designers at the gas station where I bought your shoes. As I said before, we’ll get you more suitable things in the morning.”

“Not to seem ungrateful, because I am grateful, I’m just curious. If you got my brand of face cream, why did you buy shoes at a gas station?”

“I bought the clothes at the last minute. The other things...thoughts were quite muddled a few months ago and I bought a few items for your birthday. I drove home planning out where I’d hide them so you wouldn’t stumble on anything and actually went to a stranger’s apartment. It took sticking my key in the door before I realized I didn’t live there.” 

“Oh my god,” she struggled to get to her feet, then tripped into his arms. “I’m so sorry.”

He buried his face in the curve of her neck. “None of that matters. You’re here now. You’re real.”

She’d only meant to comfort him, but his longing was a potent, almost tangible thing and she didn’t know what she wanted from him. It was clear what he wanted from her--his wife back, or the imagined, ideal version of her. 

He pulled away slightly and they looked at each other. His hands were still cold from the outside as he smoothed her hair back. 

“It’s late and you’ve had an unimaginably tiring day. I should leave you to it.” He kissed her forehead, then darted away before she could say another word.

She was too tired to take off her makeup or even change into her hard-won pajamas. Cordelia flopped on the bed and fell asleep without the benefit of crawling beneath the blankets.


	37. Chapter 37

It took Cordi a full minute to remember where she was when she woke up. The blue-walled room was sunny and totally foreign until she recounted her steps. In the night someone had placed a thick, chenille blanket over her--it had to have been Wesley. Gradually she got out of bed. Her entire body ached, slowing the process. She could smell coffee, smoke and something toasty; the scents of breakfast happening and she wanted to be part of it. Cordelia hobbled out into the hallway and into the main room.

Wesley stood at the stove, spatula in hand, concentrating on not burning an omelete.   
“Hey,” She said.  
He twisted around and smiled at her. “Morning. How are you feeling?”  
“Like I just fell through the floor and got impaled by a piece of rebar. Actually, that’s an exaggeration. I feel like that happened a few days ago and now I’m supposed to pretend I’m fine.”  
“You never have to pretend with me.”  
“Good,” She sat down at the kitchen table. “Get used to hearing me complain.”

He’d laid out silverware on top of cloth napkins, folded in a triangle. Of all the times they’d eaten together, he’d never done that. Scratch that, the one time Fred joined them for an after-battle dinner, he put out cloth napkins. Apparently Cordi warranted the good manners now.  
He set a plate in front of her loaded with a cheese omelete, fried greens and a slice of melon. This was her favorite breakfast. Seeing it made her stop and forget her musing.

“You used to make this for me when I’d crash at your place.”  
He sat down beside her. “I did?”  
“Do you remember that?”  
“No, I picked things up from the grocer this morning. This just felt right.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “You’d sleep at my apartment when we were friends?”  
“After you got shot I’d stay over sometimes. And then when our original office exploded, you guys worked out of my living room, Angel would leave and you’d stay over some nights. You taught me how to cook. At first I could only make those toaster waffles, but then you showed me how to make real waffles.Yours were always better, though.”  
His eyes seemed to have gotten as big as the lenses of his glasses. “You’d sleep over, just the two of us, and nothing ever happened?”   
“Well,” she looked down at her plate, “No. Why would it?”  
“I must be completely sexless to you.”  
“Just a smidge.”  
He let out an exasperated laugh identical to the sound he made once after being punched in the stomach.   
“Wait, Wes, it was the same way with me. You weren’t attracted to me at all. It was all about Fred pretty much from the day she started working with us.”  
“How can that be possible? You are literally the most attractive woman I have ever seen.”  
“But I’m not smart the way Fred is, and that’s always been huge for you. Boobs don’t really compete.”  
“Cordelia, you’re more than--”  
“You don’t know, Wes. You have no idea, so don’t try to argue with me. Besides, there was this thing that happened when we first met. This really bad kiss we could never get past.”  
“We kissed and it was bad?”  
“The worst. Worst. You--”  
“Kissed like a hacksaw?”  
“Oh, you do remember.”  
“No, it’s something I heard before. Tell me everything about this, I’d really like to know.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as though trying to get rid of a headache.

She cleared her throat. “Well, I met you in Sunnydale, you were Buffy’s Watcher. Or Faith’s. I’m still not clear on that. I had a huge crush on you. The feelings were mutual, there was sparkage when our eyes met, the tingling in the pants, the whole magillah. Until we kissed on the last day of school. You sorta went at me like a ravenous timberwolf and I choked you a little bit.”

“That’s sounds wonderful, actually.”   
“Wait, you’re into choking, too? How the hell did we ever have sex in the future...past?”  
“I’m joking, Cordelia. The only thing to do, I think, is to repeat the experiment.”  
“You want to kiss again? Right now?”  
“Why not? Better to dash my hopes now than to wonder if there could be anything between us again.”   
She shook her head, wishing he hadn’t wheedled the story out of her, especially because it didn’t inform the way she felt now. She didn’t know how she felt, but he wasn’t her buddy any more, and she doubted he ever would be again.  
“No. If we’re going to kiss, I have to take you off guard. You over-think things and you’re going to screw it up. The second time we kissed, I surprised you and it was actually pretty good.”  
“Wait, so we kissed again?”  
“Well that time I was just trying to get rid of my visions and I was kissing anyone who stepped in front of me.”  
Wesley pushed his plate away and stood up.  
“Where are you going?”  
“Out for a walk. This conversation is slackening my grip on reality, which, could already be described as tenuous at best.”   
“Did you just take like half a dozen extra words to say I’m making you crazy?”  
“Yes.”  
She struggled to stand up, nearly falling in the process. “Wait, I’ll go eat in the other room if you want me to. Please don’t leave.”   
He stepped toward her and gave her his arm for support. “I’m sorry, darling.” He helped her back into her chair and then returned to his own before continuing to speak. “None of this is happening as I thought it would. I feel as though we’re on uneven ground.”

“We have time, Wes. Don’t try to force it. I mean, I already love you from back when we were platonic breakfast pals, not to mention how you rescued me last night.”

He smiled weakly. “I feel like I’ve always loved you. I’m terrified it’s just this part of me that’s been empty my whole life and my image of you has grown to fill it.”

“It’s not that hard. I’m sitting here, waiting to have the most important meal of the day with you. Get to know me.”

“Well,” he took a knife in one hand and a fork in the other. “Now I know how we met so the next logical question would be, what was your childhood like?”

“Privileged. My parents were wealthy but also super attentive and loving. I was that bitch who had a pony and named it Keanu after my first crush.”

“Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure was as fine a film as any.” 

“The sequel not so much.”

“Too true.”

**  
They didn’t end up leaving the cottage that afternoon. Instead, they spent the greater part of the day talking. She told him about her parents, how they’d been ideal until her sophomore year of high school, when her mother lost her job as CEO of Plymouth Bank and began drinking again after fifteen years of sobriety. Cordelia had lied and told her friends her mom had chronic fatigue syndrome. Her father lost most of their money in shady land deals and then went to prison. 

She told him about her first time and then her worst time, and how he’d gotten her through the shame she felt after her demonic pregnancy. He told her he’d dreamed that they had a child, and the Loa confirmed it, but he believed the baby might have had died. She stared blankly at him. The idea of that was too big, too horrible, she didn’t want to remember it if it was true.

“Let’s just deal with each other right now. I can’t believe that happened until I figure you out,” Cordelia said.

They’d migrated from the table to couch where they compared what they knew about working at Angel Investigations. She explained to him who Justine was, why his throat had been cut. He began to understand how Angel could hate him so much. Wesley explained they’d fallen in love after she’d saved him from this fate.

“Angel told me about that. He thought the Powers that Be forced us together,” she said. Her feet rested in his lap, but he hadn’t touched them.  
“I don’t know. The Loa said you chose me, despite the odds against it.”  
“You really put your trust in a talking hamburger?”  
“I’m not sure, but I do know Angel had an alterior motive for believing you never really loved me.”  
Cordelia withdrew from him, pulling herself up into a lotus position.  
“Wes, you should know before anything happens between us. Not that anything is going to happen, or won’t.”  
.  
“Please, Cordi your honesty is tortuous. Just tell me.”

“Angel and I did stuff. Like sexual things.” She grimaced. “And I’m disgusted with myself, because I knew what could happen if we did, but I was never the one who stopped things. He always did.”

“You’ve done nothing to feel guilty about.” 

“How can you say that? You’re blaming Angel for everything when it was me begging him to to do it because I was lonely.”

“Because your whole universe had been shrunk down to one person; his wants, his image of you, how and when he saw you. He had complete control over you, Cordelia, down to the way you wore your hair. None of that was an accident, not even the way he shifted all the blame to you.”

Her face crumpled up and her cheeks got ruddy as she began to cry. 

“Cordelia, none of this was your fault. It wasn’t your fault.” He hesitated before putting his arms around her. She didn’t resist the contact at all, and wept into the hollow of his neck.

“But I came onto him after he told me about you. He left and he was gone for so long and I just wanted to keep him there. I would have done anything to keep him there.”  
“He starved you and then called you greedy when you begged for food?”   
“Sex isn’t food. I went two years without sex and I can only go four hours without craving lean protein.”   
“Human contact, Cordi. Let me guess, your nurses stopped talking to you?”  
“Yes.”  
“So all you had to look forward to was him.”  
“And Conner. They let me play with the baby.”  
“Which made you feel more bonded to Angel.”  
“Yes.”  
“You were being manipulated.” He sighed against her hair, steeling up his courage to keep going, “When I was a child my father used to lock me under the stairs as punishment. The first time he did it my mother heard me sobbing and tried to let me out. He beat her. I could hear her screams on the other side of the door. After that I never cried when he put me in there, no matter how frightened I was. I never told anyone because I wanted to protect my mother. That’s how one robs another of a willingness to protest, to fight. That’s how power works.”

She withdrew to gaze at his face. “I’m so sorry. I never knew that about you.” Her earnest look made him feel terrible, as though he’d been trawling for pity.

“Well, I only mention it now because you were much stronger than me. You just left the person you love because it was destroying you. That’s something I was unable to do. I called the old bastard on his birthday, agonized over Christmas gifts that would be ultimately returned to the shop.”   
“I still feel like I’m doing something wrong by being here with you.” She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes. “I’m so tired, Wes.”  
“I’ll take you to bed--not that way,”  
“It’s okay, Wes. I’d appreciate it.”  
He swept her into his arms. He carried her to the bedroom, turned down the covers and set her on the mattress.  
“I’ll be in the other room if you need anything.”  
“Don’t go. We can talk. You can lay next to me and just talk, right?”  
“Of course.”  
He got in bed next to her and pulled the blankets around them.   
“Can I hold you?” Wesley was ashamed of how vulnerable he sounded.  
“Yes. Just don’t try to kiss me. I have to be the one to kiss you, okay, or it won’t work.”   
“Got it.”   
“Tell me how you proposed to me,” she whispered.  
“I did it twice, the second time you said yes.”  
“Where did you take me?”  
“We were in your apartment on the couch. You were wearing pig pajamas.”  
“That sounds like the least romantic thing ever.”  
“No, that was the first time I asked you. If I get a third shot at it, I’ll improve my technique.”   
“Where did we go on our honeymoon?”  
“Your bedroom.”  
“And I was okay with that? That doesn’t sound like something I’d be okay with.”   
“You seemed quite content.”  
“It’s good we’re getting a re-do here, because this can’t be my story. I’m supposed to get married in a castle with doves and horses and maybe one of the Royals. It can be one of the crummier royals, who’s in exile, but still holds the title anyway.I can’t have married you at that cheapie chapel and danced in my living room. That’s so not me.”  
“Perhaps it won’t be again. You may never want this version of me. We’ve changed; you’ve been through something profound, as have I. We didn’t share those trials, either.”   
“When you’re near me I know I could love you. It’s like when you learn to dance or play an instrument and part of you doesn’t have to think any more because you’ve done it so many times.”  
“Muscle memory.”  
“Yes, that’s what I’m talking about. The first time you were close to me, my body remembered you, even though my mind didn’t.”  
“It was the same for me. I remembered the smell of your skin. I want to kiss you so much right now, Cordelia.”  
“No. Wait for me. You have to wait for me.” She nodded off on his chest. Wesley was certain he’d never be able to fall asleep, until he did a few minutes later.


	38. Chapter 38

Wesley knew it was a dream because he was watching himself. Then as it began to unfold, he became immersed in the details and that certainty was lost.

Cordelia sat at her desk at Angel Investigations, poring over the computer when he walked over to her. Hesistant to appear overly familiar, though the night before he’d been inside her. It was new intimacy, a fragile connection he wasn’t sure she wanted to repeat. 

When he handed her a cup of coffee she held it a beat, so she could touch his hand.  
“Angel asked me why I left my car here last night. I didn’t know what to do so I told him we went to dinner together.”  
“We did go to dinner together.”  
“But do you think he’ll guess the rest? I took a Silkwood shower at your house and then got gross city bus smell all over me coming here, but do you think he could still smell you on me?”  
“Where is he, by the way?”  
“Getting Charlie’s soul back from this casino owner. That’s where they all are. Angel’s got it covered.”  
He looked at her over his glasses. “So your saying I’m not needed.”  
She caught on quickly. “Needed?” she asked breathlessly.  
“Or wanted?”  
“Wanted?”  
He leaned down and kissed her softly on the mouth. When he was through, he whispered close to her ear. “Now if Angel asks, tell him I’ve started kissing people hello to appear more continental. Lorne will vouch for me.”  
He stood up and leaned against the wall, pleased with the effect he’d had on her. Her eyes were heavily lidded and her lips were deep red.  
“Why couldn’t you have kissed me like that the first time?”  
“I didn’t know you then.”  
She took a sip of her coffee, “What difference does that make?”  
“You’re practical, but that doesn’t mean you’re not tender. You were so acerbic, I hadn’t imagined you were much of a romantic at the time.” That and he’d assumed she saw herself as a jailbait sexpot, when that was a crude stereotype he’d ascribed to her. She saw herself as a good girl who through determination and hard work was about to win her prince. They’d both been playing different games with different sets of rules. He wasn’t sure how to say that to her without coming across as loutish and condescending, so he kept it to himself.

Cordelia set her mug down, the sweet, drowsy aspect gone from her face. “Don’t try to make me fall in love with you, Wes. Things are already too complicated.”

His self-satisfaction vanished. He composed himself without letting his calm expression slip.  
“I can’t make you do anything. If you think we should stop this before it gets out of hand, it stops now.”  
“I do. We should. Yes?”   
He walked over and kissed the top of her head. “Then it’s over.” He gave her a quick squeeze. “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”   
He didn’t feel half so mature as he was pretending to be, but he’d expected this; just not so soon.  
**  
Cordelia knew she was dreaming because she watched herself walk up to Wesley’s apartment carrying two paper bags. She thought fleetingly that she really looked good from the back before becoming immersed in the situation and forgetting it was just a dream.

Cordelia knocked on his door, the paper bags crinkling. They smelled like really good Chinese food. Wesley answered a moment later. She didn’t let him speak before launching into the spiel she’d been concocting on the drive over.

“I wanted to stop by and say thank you for being so mature today about the whole thing with, you know. So I brought food. Moo Shu, because I know you’re a big dork who loves the fancy little pancakes and Chili Chicken because you ordered that once and completely threw off everything I thought about you and some veggie stuff, too, in case I can resist eating your food and decide to go lite,” She read the look on his face. He was legitimately bemused, like he found her hilarious and sad all at once. That’s when she realized, “There’s someone else here with you, isn’t there? That’s why you haven’t asked me in yet and maybe I set myself up for this but it’s still making me kind of pissed. Is Fred here with you? It’s Fred, isn’t it and I’m an idiot because I thought for a second that--”

He put his hands on her shoulders and stepped nearer to her. “Yes, Fred is here, and so is her boyfriend. Angel is also present. Perhaps you should go in and say hello to everyone.” Wesley unburdened her of her take out. She stepped past him to check out the living room. Everyone was indeed sitting there.

“Hey guys.”  
“Where have you been, Cordi? I called you four times. There’s something happening in Sunnydale, we have to help Buffy.” Angel didn’t get up from the couch.

“Oh fantastic, you brought Chinese food,” Fred sounded like she was starving to death.  
“We just ordered a pizza,” Charles looked at her skeptically.  
“I know, but I was probably going to eat most of that anyway.” Fred came into the room and started poking around the bags. “Why are there taper candles in here?”  
“Um, I asked Cordelia to bring them. They’re ritualistic. May I speak to you in my room, Cordelia?”  
“About the ritual?” Cordelia offered, lamely.  
“Naturally,” Wesley smirked at her.  
“I thought I was your ritual girl?” Fred lifted out the Moo Shu Pork, frankly more interested in it than the conversation.  
“My grandfather was Cherokee Indian. I mean Native American.” Cordelia looked to Wesley for help, but he was too entertained to offer any. “Indigenous Person? That’s part of the thing. Ritual?”  
“We’ll be right back.” Wesley hooked his arm through hers and towed her into his bedroom, right past Gunn and an unhappy Angel. He closed the door behind them.  
“You came over to thank me. You did that. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?”  
“Should we talk? I mean everybody is in the next room. Specifically the vampire with spooky supersonic hearing.”  
“It’s soundproof. I set the wards myself. Say what you came here to say.”  
“I didn’t really have anything to say.”  
“Then let’s do what you came here to do.”

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her against him. She wasn’t sure if he kissed her, or she kissed him, but either way they were kissing like there wasn’t an audience of people eating their dinner in the other room. They landed on the bed at the same time. Before his scent had always seemed clean and fresh. Sweet even. Now it was different. The smell of his skin made her mouth water. She reached for his belt, but he grabbed her wrist. 

“No.” He held her arms above her head. None of the guys she’d ever been with had dared to do that; it made a wave of heat travel from the crown of her head, down to her stomach. He brought the fingertips of his other hand to her lips.   
“Open your mouth and suck.”   
She did as she was told, sucking on his index and middle fingers. He took his fingers out of her mouth. With two rough moves, he got her skirt out of the way, pushed past her panties and jammed his fingers inside of her. She screamed; the pleasure edged with pain. He worked her clit with his thumb. She could hardly move the way he was holding her down. 

The night before she’d felt completely in control. The sex had been romantic and loving; kind of perfect. This was different--she didn’t know what to do, if she should be allowed to like this. He was being deliberately degrading but she didn’t want him to stop. She made desperate, whimpering sounds as he wound her up tight. Cordelia didn’t care; she didn’t even care how she looked to him, she just let it happen. She came harder than she ever had before, even when she was alone with her jackrabbit and her copy of Jude Law look-a-like porn. He held her there until her body stopped tingling and her breath evened out. Then he got up and went to the adjacent bathroom. He washed his hands in the sink and splashed his face. He walked toward the door.

“Wait, aren’t you going to say anything?”  
He didn’t turn around. “You want to talk now? I though you just wanted me to make you come. So I did that, enjoyed it and now I’m going back to work. I’ll tell them you’re feeling under the weather so you can clean up.”  
“But, I mean, haven’t we been gone for an hour?”  
“That took eight minutes.” He scoffed. “Think about that while you’re making yourself presentable.” He walked out of the room and shut the door behind him.   
Cordelia got out of bed. She gave herself a bird bath in a sink, then broke down into tears when she was sitting on the toilet. By the time she rejoined the others, she’d cried off her makeup and her eyes were vivid red. Angel was full of worry and Wesley wasn’t, not at all. While the others fussed around her, he stayed cold and detached by his collection of books. 

Gradually, they all left, leaving her alone with Wesley. Angel was the last to leave, giving them a hang dog look as he went out. 

She put the leftover food in his fridge and was stacking empty containers in the garbage when he walked in, standing near enough he could reach out and stroke her arm, if he wanted.

“You don’t have to do that.” Wesley folded his arms over his chest.  
“Well, it’s not like I’m doing your dishes.” She stuffed the rest of the cartons down. “Why did you act like that to me?”  
“Because you hurt me and I wanted you to know how much.”   
“By breaking up with you? We had sex one time--okay twice in the same night, but still. It’s not like you had a long time to get invested.”  
“Not that. You ended things, which stung, but I could respect it. It was coming over tonight, playing childish games. I agreed to this situation completely on your terms because I was under the impression I could trust you.”  
“I’m sorry, Wes.” She started to cry again, “I really thought it was over when I said it, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”  
“Thinking of me how?”  
She looked down, struck by an unfamiliar shyness. “You really knew me, better than any of the men I’ve been with.”  
“You even liked what I did to you tonight, except the part where I wouldn’t acknowledge you at the end, didn’t you?  
“Yes, I liked it.”  
“None of them realized how conflicted you are about your submissive streak.”  
“I don’t have a submissive streak.”  
“Stop arguing and kiss me.”  
She dove into his arms and pressed her lips to his. He pinned her hands behind her back as he strafed her mouth. Wes broke off the kiss with a hard snap.   
“Oh,” she said.  
“If you end up with Angel, watch for that. He’ll take advantage of it without meaning to.”  
“What about you?”  
“I would mean to.” He shoved her away.   
She took a few unsteady steps back. “You can trust me.”  
“I can’t keep letting you back in every time you change your mind. I won’t. The next time you tell me it’s over I’m holding you to it.”  
“Does that mean you want to keep seeing each other?”  
“Yes, for now.”  
She pulled him into a hug. “Can I stay the night?”  
“God yes.” His face broke into a smile that made her fears melt away.

**  
Cordelia woke up with her head on Wesley’s chest and for a moment she expected them to be in his apartment in L.A., just like her dream. Then the room came into focus, and she realized things were much, much stranger than usual. Without his scrutiny to contend with, she felt free to study his face. He hadn’t shaved in a while. Cordelia had never seen him go full beard before. It suited very well. His hair was a mess, in that way that made her want to rake her hands through it.

Since his dreams about her turned out to be true, she wondered if the one she’d just had about him was, too. That made her feel...wet. She didn’t know why realizing that would make her embarassed, but it did. After all, he had no idea. 

Cordi lifted herself up without waking him and managed to get to the bathroom all on her own. Brushing her teeth shouldn’t have been quite so tiring, but she was proud, anyway. There was a whirlpool bath that looked like it would be delectable on her throbbing muscles. Wes had purchased the right brand of shampoo and conditioner. A few weeks ago she’d been able to start washing her hair on her own. Cordi stepped into the tub confident that she had this. 

After she finished cleaning herself and luxuriating in the bubble jets, she tried to stand up. At that moment she was confident she didn’t have it. She couldn’t lift herself up.

“God, this is humiliating.” She mumbled before yelling, “WES! Little help here! Wes?”  
His name was still ringing against the walls of the tub when he burst through the door.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“I’m sorry to wake you but could you get me out of here?” She grinned apologetically.  
He shook his head. “Why on earth didn’t you wait for me?” He knelt down and picked her up wthout caring that she was dripping wet.  
“I didn’t want to bother you.”  
He grabbed a towel from the rack and threw it over her chest. “So you scare me half to death instead.”  
“Can you blame me for not wanting you to see me like this?”  
“Naked?”  
“Helpless.”  
He carried her into the bedroom and set her down on the bed. She tried to dry herself as best she could. He turned around, facing the door.  
“Do you need another towel for your hair?”  
“No,” She wrapped the towel she had around her head. “In fact, you might as well turn around now. I’m going to need your help getting dressed.”  
He did as she told him, and started back when he saw her naked.   
“I’m sorry, Wes.” She crossed her arms in front of her breasts.  
“No. I’m sorry,” he said, gently as he went to the dresser to fetch her something to wear. “This is much more difficult for you than me.”  
He plucked out some clothes and returned to her side with a hot pink cashmere sweater and black leggings.   
“That sweater is gorgeous, I think I picked up one almost identical to it and put it back when I saw the price tag the last time I was at a Barney’s half off sale.”   
“I didn’t know what to do about undergarments, so I left it up to you to buy.”  
“That’s fine. It would be creepy if you picked out my underwear.” She didn’t mention that Angel had done exactly that, but the look on his face told her he was thinking the same thing.  
She lifted her arms and he helped her put on her top. The boatneck was so wide it easily fit over her towel turban. He tried to keep his eyes averted during the process.  
“You can look at me, Wes.”  
His gaze met hers. “I was trying to be respectful.”   
He knelt between her legs to help her get the bottoms on. At that point she made an impulse decision. She cupped the sides of his face, tilted his head and pressed her lips to his.  
Her theory about catching him off guard proved to be uncanny.   
It was a very good kiss.   
They fell into another and another. He’d been keeping his hands clamped down to the bed. She lifted them and placed one on her upper thigh, the other on her breast. Her nipple was already hard, he strummed carefully. She wondered if he remembered how to touch her or if he was just being cautious. He pulled away just when she’d stopped caring why. He looked up at her with glazed eyes.

“Should we stop? You can hardly stand.”  
She threaded her right hand through his hair the way she’d wanted to all morning. His lids fell shut; he seemed to be savoring her touch.  
“I want to see where this leads.”  
“Don’t let me hurt you because you think it’s what I want.”  
“I won’t.”  
“Because I’ll only leave you if you want me to. I want to be with you forever, Cordelia. We don’t have to rush this.”  
“Stop it, okay. This isn’t...that’s not what this is about.”  
“Then tell me what it is, so I don’t make it into what I want it to be.” He rested his head on her leg, and she continued to tousle.   
“I had a dream about you, and it made me really hot.”  
His chuckle bloomed into a mad grin. “And you want to use me for sex.”  
“Kinda.”  
“I’m completely fine with that.”  
“So does that mean you’re going to stop being all weight of the worldy and make me come already?”  
“Oh yes, but like I said before, tell me if you don’t like what I’m doing. You must appreciate this situation is a little out of my depth.”

He began kissing her inner thigh, making further conversation completely irrelevant. His beard tickled the soft skin inside her legs. It felt so good she thought of telling him to stop shaving. He nudged her knees wider and pressed his mouth to her labia. It sent a jolt through her; she held onto his head for support. He interpreted that as a cue to suck harder.

She sprawled out on the bed and put her feet up on the edge of the mattress, allowing her to lay completely flat. That position also had the added benefit of giving him complete access. He whimpered, the vibrations cascading through her. He’d latched onto her clit like it was giving him life. The way he made her feel was giving her life, too. He brought her close to finishing so fast, when the orgasm hit it took her by surprise. The pleasure felt like it was lighting her up from the inside out. He rode it out, extending her pleasure for as long as he could. She lay there with her eyes closed, her face hurt from smiling so much. He moved away from her.

“Oh my god, Cordelia. You’re glowing.”  
“Thank you.”  
“No darling, I mean in the literal sense.”

She opened her eyes and held her hand up to her face. He was right--she was emitting a golden light. She sat up feeling more hopeful than she had in months. He was still on his knees, awe on his face.

“It’s okay. I do this from time to time.”  
“How can you be nonchalant about this?”  
“Because...our lives?”  
“Right.”  
“It hasn’t happened since my accident. I wonder if this means my visions are coming back?” A thought began to kindle in the back of her mind; a memory that she knew belonged to her and Wesley. “I kissed you to save your life.”

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been told.”

She reached out her hands to him. “But I’m starting to remember it on my own. Take your pajamas off, get in bed with me. I need you.”

He stripped off fast and helped her take her sweater and the towel off, too. They got under the covers. When their bodies touched, the golden glow intensified and she could recall exactly what happened.

“I saw a vision of myself telling me to go to you, to make things right.”  
He looked down at her, stunned. “You called me. I was with Lila Morgan.”  
“Ew.”  
“Not with her with her, but by just. I went to your apartment.”  
“I touched your scar and saw everything inside you. All the pain. How you broke your own heart to save him, but it was for nothing. I’m seeing it now like it’s the first time.” She started to cry. He rolled on top of her, smoothed her hair away from her face.   
“It’s alright, darling. You saved me.”  
“Wes, I need to be closer to you. I need you inside me.”  
She opened her legs as far apart as she could. He slid his penis inside of her. The light enveloped him, too. She looked into his eyes, and the irises had turned from green to gold. They stayed like that, locked together, while her memories emerged.

She traced the planes of his face with her fingers, her thumb brushed against his lips. As their history filled in, it felt like his face was being repainted in different shades beneath her hand. The colors ran deeper. He wasn’t loved--he was beloved. Her not-so-secret boyfriend, the father of her child, her husband. The man who held her daughter to her breast when she was too weak to do it, the dragon-slayer ever patient with her. 

She was changed, too, from a girl who was curious to know how he was in bed to his wife.   
They moved together through her life. By the time he finished, she was caught up on everything that had happened between them. She knew by the enormous smile that encompassed his face, he was not.

“What do you remember, Wes?”  
“You saving me. Why, what about you?” He propped himself up on his elbow, resting his head on his hand.  
“I remember everything.”  
He stroked her cheek with curved fingers, the smile on his lips withdrawn into a tense line.  
“We did have a daughter, Wes.”


	39. Chapter 39

They’d spent hours talking, comparing dreams and memory. Wesley listened as she told him about the life they shared, but he didn’t feel any of it. They were stories that made him marvel at the magic that was his wife. He didn’t ache for Amelia’s loss as she did, or long to know Greta. But he was grateful to comfort Cordelia, grateful to know he was sane. She could fill up all the hollow places in his memories. She could be the touchstone of his life.

When hunger finally became enough motivation to leave the warmth and safety of their bed, he moved to help her up.   
“It’s okay, Wes,” she put up her hand to stay him, “I think I got it.” She stood gracefully beside him, on her own power.  
“How are you doing that?”  
“I think you did it. Being with you. After we got married you researched what kind of demon I am. I wanted to know because of the baby.” She wound her arms around his neck, pressed her body to his. “You said I was seraphim.”  
“You’re an angel.”

She grinned up at him. “When we heal people, we give up parts of ourselves. Every time I did the glowy thing, I was ‘dispersing my power,’ that’s how you put it. Seraphims can get their energy back, though. We choose one person as a reservoir and a part of us lives in them. That’s why you could hear me even when I wasn’t there.”

Wesley didn’t say anything. He kissed her again and somehow they fell back into bed.

**  
The next day they went shopping in Portland at the mall. Wes paid cash for everything. Cordelia eyed him after the third store and asked how much he had. He told her not to worry. She couldn’t help worrying, though. 

Now that she was back on her feet, Cordelia wondered how long they could stay on the run and if they’d ever see Greta again. Their daughter wouldn’t know them, of course, but maybe that could change. 

Not even retail therapy could banish her concerns, but buying a new coat, purse, pants and some bras and panties that fit went a lot farther to helping her feel better than she expected. 

“Are you sure you’re not bored?” she asked at the shoe store while trying on her tenth pair of boots. 

He grinned at her from his perch on the little bench. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to find you? I could watch you try on impractical footwear all day.”

“Thank you. Also, I’m not buying the Wellingtons. It’s just not going to happen.”

“They’ll keep your feet dry.”

“And these will keep me from feeling like an 80-year-old.” She stuck out one leg to show off a black, knee-high boot.

“I like you in leather.”

“Say that a little louder, I don’t think the teenagers in the back of the store heard you.”

He looked appropriately mortified. “Sorry. Discretion is the better part of valor.” 

“I think this is the pair anyway. We should go before it gets dark.” 

The reason hung between them, unspoken. Not that Angel couldn’t find them during the day, but the night seemed particularly perilous. Besides, he wasn’t the only vampire around. 

They paid for the boots and left. She was relieved that the mall parking lot was still crowded; it seemed less likely they’d get attacked with a full audience. They got in the battered black Volvo that came with the cottage. Cordi settled in, practically swimming in shopping bags. Wesley got in on his side and started the engine. As they drove, she asked him the question that had been nagging her all day.

“How long do we have here, Wes?”  
“Money isn’t a problem, if that’s what you’re worried about. While you were sleeping, my parents passed away, left me some properties and other assets. I liquidated everything. If we were modest in our spending, we could live on it indefinitely.”  
“I’m so sorry. What happened?”  
“Thank you,” he said, softly. His eyes scanned the road. “Father was driving them back from midnight mass on Christmas Eve. He had a heart attack and crossed the center line, collided with a semi-truck. They were both killed instantly. I went home for the funeral. Apparently father had tried to change the will to remove me as beneficiary, but then he went back on the decision. It was our marriage. He would have cut me out entirely had his memory not been altered.”  
“Wes, I’m so sorry.”  
“It’s all right.” He sounded eerily unaffected. “The cottage where we’re staying belonged to my grandmother, who gave it to my mother. They used to go on holiday here when mother was a child. I went there once on my own, after I finished university. It was wonderful.”  
“You went on vacation by yourself? No family or girlfriend...or just guy friends?”  
He shrugged, stealing a glance at her before looking back to the road. “It was nice to have a break on my own after all the stress of school. I read ‘Ullysses’ and wrote my own terrible poetry. Then I got drunk and flung it into the sea. The poems, not the Joyce. It was quite romantic.”  
“I would’ve at least rented a jet ski.”  
“I did that, too. At any rate, after I inherited the place, I sold it to Leopold Bloom, the--”  
“Main character in Ullysses. I know. Don’t look so surprised. I’m allowed to have layers.”  
“That’s not why I’m surprised, darling. I had a dream you were re-reading that book when we were in bed together.”  
“Really?”  
“Yes, and when I noticed the book title, I took it out of your hand and ravished you.”  
“You’re making that up.”  
“Yes, yes I am, but we could make it a reality tonight.”  
“You’re such a dork.”   
“I’m just happy. It feels almost dangerous, after all the pain we’ve been through. I almost wonder if I’ve taken complete leave of my senses and they’ve got me locked in a psych ward somewhere.”  
“You’re here and so am I. This is real, Wes.” She took his hand. “But Angel is going to find us eventually.”  
“I’m afraid you’re right.” He sighed. “Fred told me there’s a code she set up with Willow for emergencies, dire Angel-related emergencies. I think this qualifies. I can contact her tonight.”  
“That’s a good idea. Then afterward we can do that book thing.”

**  
After they got home and put away her new clothes, Wesley contacted Willow. Cordelia hadn’t expected Wesley to take out a lap top. She’d been thinking more along the lines of a magic talking mirror or a cauldron with a floating head. 

“I didn’t even know we had internet access out here.” Cordi cuddled next to him on the couch with a mug of hot tea.   
“Oh yes, all the amenities. Mother had been renting the place out over the summers, so we kept it updated. Feel free to use the computer, but don’t check your email or any of your old accounts.” 

“My livejournal must be going nuts.”

“Huh?” he quirked an eyebrow at her.

“It was a joke.”

Willow’s face popped up on the screen; she looked older than Cordi remembered--in a good way. Like she’d matured past any type of timidity. In her shimmery burgundy top and with her elegant bob she looked commanding. In the background of the frame Cordelia could see a wall of books and a tray of hand-blown glass stoppered bottles that contained glittery liquid.

“Hey Wesley. Cordelia. What’s happening in your neck of the...where the heck are you two? Weird things have been going on and we’re all a little freaked out.”

“Weird how?” Wesley leaned closer to the screen.

“Angel contacted us two days ago to say you kidnapped a woman from his headquarters. When Buffy asked about Cordi, he kind of flipped out, and then he admitted Cordi was the victim woman.”

Cordelia raised her hand. “Um, I’m not kidnapped.”

“Yeah, that’s something I’d mark under obvious, if we were tallying up that sort of thing in neat, little columns, or else why would you be calling me like we’re chat buddies? Also, Fred’s disappeared, so has her boyfriend, Charlie. I was able to follow Fred’s traces and she hopped dimensions. What is going on?” 

“We can explain in full what we know,” Wesley said.

“Good. Start, because right now our people are not trusting any of Angel’s people. But it’s you guys and I want to trust.”

“Neither Fred, Charles or I entered into terms with Wolfram and Hart of our own volition. Cordelia was simply unconscious when she was taken into their care. My memory was wiped. There were charms in place to keep myself and other people from learning about Cordelia.” 

Willow’s mouth gaped. “This happened to me. I kept trying to remember her name, and then I was certain she left you, Wes.”

“In a way she did. He erased her recollection of our marriage entirely.”  
“But I remember everything now, because Wes fixed me.”  
“What?”  
“By boning.”  
“Cordi!”  
“I’m seraphim, we place parts of our soul in those we heal--”  
“Yeah, yeah, no, I understand completely. Boning would definitely work if someone placed an impediment spell on you, damaged the connections between you and your memories. What about you, Wes?”  
“I’m still rather broken. There are gaps, whole years I cannot account for. And I’m numb to much of what’s happening. I’m detached. Although, that could be because I’m British.”   
“How could I not have noticed this memory charm afoot before now?” Willow shook her head, her small fists balled up. “I worked with Greta a few months ago on something unrelated and totally forgot she was your daughter. I’m professionally embarrassed. I’ve shamed all witches everywhere.”

“You haven’t, you’re a good witch. Whatever happened to us was massive and evil and Wes had to kiss up to a talking hamburger to undo it--”  
“Oh, the Loa. That guy is the worst,” Willow folded her hands. “I might be able to help Wesley get some of his memories back, but I need to know where you are. Do you have any spirit salts?”

“In the boot of my car,” Wesley said.

“Okay, write out your names in powder on even ground. I’ll be there in a flash.”

Wesley got up, leaving Cordi to chat with Willow alone. Cordi sipped her mug for a beat before trying for some small talk.

“So, how’s Xander doing?”   
Willow seemed relieved that they weren’t just staring at each other any more. “Good. Dating Dawn which is just...bizarro. I did not see that one coming.”  
“Eesh, well, she’s over eighteen. But isn’t she kind of pretend? I was never really sure what was going on there.”  
“She is over eighteen, technically, although in reality she’s only about four. I don’t know. We lead unconventional lives, don’t you think?”  
“I think. How’s Buffy? What does she think of what’s going on with Angel?”  
“Her heart’s a little bit broken, but it is every time they interact these days. He still has a hold on her, even after everything. Oh, and she’s engaged, or engaged to be engaged since her fiance has technically been dead for a hundred and thirty years.”  
“What?”  
“Spike bought her a really nice ring. It’s unofficially official.”  
“Good for them. Of all the guys who’ve tried to kill me, he was probably the least competent.”   
“Right?”  
“And you. How about you, Willow?”  
Willow smiled, a little sad. “You’d think surrounded by beautiful, powerful women I’d have a pretty full dance card. Not so much.”  
“Well, you look hot, if that’s any consolation.”  
Even through the computer screen, Cordi could see Willow blush.  
“You know what, it kind of is? I was president of the I hate Cordelia Chase club for years--”  
“I know, and Xander was treasurer and you realized a while ago it meant you probably wanted to make out with me, just like he did?”  
“Okay, kind of full of yourself there, Cordi. Also, yeah.”   
“Well I teased you because I was jealous of how smart you were. Like hands down, the biggest brain on the block and you didn’t have to try to be pretty. You just were.”   
Willow’s eyes filled with tears, and Willow crying was something heartbreaking to behold. Cordi wished she’d been a little less with the honesty.  
“Oh, Cordi. I’m...please be old Cordi so I can stop myself from crying.”  
“But you still dressed like a refugee who’d been camping out in a K Mart.”  
“Thank you. Woo.” Willow dabbed her eye. “That was a close one.” 

Wesley came back into the house. “It’s done.”  
Willow hadn’t been kidding about the bright flash. Lightening went through the room and Willow instantly stood in front of them.

“Now let me see what I can do for you, Wes.” Willow went over to Wesley and took his hand. She sat him down on the couch. Cordi couldn’t help feeling a twinge at seeing her touching him, even though she had all the kind efficiency of a doctor; the whole seeing her kiss Xander thing never quite disappeared. Xander was the first time Cordelia ever doubted her own desirability.

Willow placed her hands on either side of Wesley’s head. “Close your eyes. I’m going to have a look around. It will only take a minute.”

He did as he was told.Willow’s eyes went black; images flickered over the inky surface. 

Willow screamed and nearly fell over. Cordi got up and ran over to her, catching the small woman before she could land on the floor. Wes just sat there, seemingly asleep.

“Are you okay?” Cordi asked.  
When Willow looked at her, it was with her normal, green eyes. “I’m fine. His memories were taken out with black magic, very violent. Ugly. What was done to him was systematic, over the course of weeks. The only thing holding him together as a person was that piece of your soul, Cordi.”  
“Could I heal him the way he did me?”  
“What happened to you was different. Someone put an impediment on your memories, so they could reveal them or conceal them at will. Whoever was controlling you wanted you whole. Wes was was cut up into pieces. The memories are just gone. We can work to restore some things you experienced intimately; like in the exact same way because your souls were fused which is kind of the most romantic thing I’ve never known existed until I saw inside his head.”  
“I didn’t...wow.” The idea of that took the air from Cordi’s lungs, but Willow moved on without pause.  
“Whoever scooped his memories out is probably using them to track you. So that means if he was in this place prior to the extraction, they know about it.”  
“He was.” Cordi sat beside her husband. “How long do we have?”  
“I don’t know, but I can’t stay here. I don’t have the strength to start healing him and get back to where I need to be. Besides, I’d never start something that intense in a compromised location. He’ll have a deep, restorative sleep for the next few hours. I cleared out some of the bad stuff from his brain, but not even a teensy, eensy bit. Maybe a teens or a single eens. The longer he’s with you, the better he’ll be but, right now you’re really all he can feel about, if that makes sense. When he wakes up, you two get the heck out of here. I’m sorry, Cordi, but I have to go.”  
“Why? I mean, can you come with us?”  
“Buffy needs to know about all of this. Angel signed off on something truly horrific with Wesley. Even if he didn’t know what they did exactly, he had a general sense. Maybe he could fool himself into thinking he was helping you, but the entity that did this to Wesley had to be notoriously melevolent--a dark wizard that killed other wizards to obtain this kind of power. There are only four or five creatures on earth who could do this. If I had my phone with me, I could narrow it down in a jiff, but electronics don’t like apparating.”  
“It’s actually called apparating, like in Harry Potter?”  
“Oh, I don’t know. That’s just what I call it and since I’m the only person who can do it, the name kinda stuck. Good luck, Cordi. Keep in contact. I’ll send help as soon as I’m able. The scariest part of all this is that he isn’t Angelus. If he was, I could just boom, zap, resoul. This is so much worse. This is Angel letting his demon win. I didn’t think that was possible.”

Willow gave Cordelia a quick hug, and noticed she was shaking. “It’s going to be okay. I promise you.”  
“Willow, I know you’re lying, sweetie. Just make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone else.” Cordi sensed something when she looked into Willow’s face and gave into the impulse. She kissed her on the lips. Willow froze for a second, but as they both began to glow, she relaxed in Cordi’s arms. Cordelia ended the kiss by slowly pulling away.  
“Tonight, when she calls you, just pick up the phone. Okay?” Cordi squeezed both Willow’s slim shoulders.  
“I promise. Thank you. I think you fixed something I didn’t know was broken.”  
“That’s what I do.”  
Willow popped out of the room in another burst of light, leaving behind only the scent of ozone and strawberries. Cordi let her empty arms drop. She made a conscious choice to ignore the fear creeping along her bones. Instead she made Wesley more comfortable by laying him on his side and covering him with the comforter from the bed. She packed her brand new clothes in a leather suitcase she found in the closet. She went through all the drawers, rooting around Wesley’s possessions with abandon. There was nothing of surprise, but much of value. Wes hid a bug-out bag under the bed, stocked with stakes, knives, handcuffs, a tazer, two guns, regular ammo and holy water infused bullets; Cordi’s favorite was the crossbow. It was the first weapon she’d really learned how to use and she was a good shot. Not as good as Wes with a gun, but good enough. 

She set the bag of weapons and the suitcase by the door. The refrigerator was stocked with Diet Root Beer and some bottled water. She threw some drinks into a cooler under the sink and stuffed power bars into her newly purchased purse. 

Cordi pulled on her new coat, picked up the suitcase and cooler. The weapons bag was way too heavy to carry along with everything else. She went outside and put the bags in the backseat. Wind coming off the water stung her cheek, whipped her hair around. Maybe they could drive someplace warmer together. Cordi went back to the house and collected the weapons bag, being careful to leave out the crossbow. She hadn’t thought about it in a long time, but habit took over and she knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to be completely unarmed. 

Cordi put the bag inside the trunk and slammed it shut. She started walking back to the porch. The wind chimes sounded like they were going to blow down. She looked down at the sand and noticed too late there were too many footprints. Angel stepped out from the shadows near the porch, his hands up. At the sight of him, she panicked and couldn’t move.


	40. Chapter 40

“I’ve been looking all over for you.”

She wished she’d held onto the crossbow. 

Angel smiled at her. He smiled. He was still talking, talking to her like they were friends or something and walking toward her. At least he was moving away from Wes. If she could just keep him away from Wesley.

“It was easy to find you. Leopold Bloom. I thought Wes was supposed to be smarter than that.”  
“I think it’s kinda amazing he can tie his shoes after you tore his mind apart.”  
Angel looked apologetic. “I didn’t realize that’s what was happening.”  
“You didn’t? After they scooped out his memories. Did you realize they erased my memories to get me to think I loved you?”  
“Cordi, you did love me. I think you could again. Whatever Wes is to you--”  
“He’s my husband.”  
“He was going to let you die. If I hadn’t wrested control away from Wes, if I hadn’t had his memory altered, you would have.”  
“So you think this is better? My life is worth driving him insane, sacrificing your friends to Wofram and Hart? They’re all gone now, Angel it’s just you.” She found her footing and began marching toward him.   
“Yes, to me your life was worth it.”  
She had no weapon, but she spotted a piece of drift wood on the ground. Cordelia swiped it from where it lay as she ran toward him. It was a long shot, but she had to do something, and frankly she was too angry to do anything else. Cordi jumped at him, arm raised and tried to shove the wood in his chest. It shattered into a pathetic crumble of splinters on his shoulder. They both looked at the mess she’d made of his black wool coat.  
“Are you happy now?” He stood there looking down on her.  
She punched him in the face as hard as she could. “Getting there.”   
On her second swing he caught her fist. He wrapped her in a bear hug and hoisted her up, her feet kicking ineffectually above the ground. “You’re sloppy.”  
“What do you want from me, besides a Giuseppe Zanotti bootheel in your crotch?”  
“I want to give Wes his memories back. That’s why I tracked you here. I want to try to make amends to you.”  
She stopped struggling.  
“Why?”  
“Because I realized how much I hurt you. Both of you. Let’s sit down on the porch swing. I just want to talk.” He let go of her. 

Cordi wasn’t sure if she should attack again, or try to listen. Since her first attempt at self defense went so poorly, she decided to let him talk. She walked over to the swing and sat. He joined her, keeping his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t really have anything to say to you, Angel.”  
“I find that hard to believe.”  
“You took everything from me a person can take.”  
“I didn’t mean for that to happen. I love you, Cordi. If you wanted to come back--”  
“Is that what this is really about?”  
“No.” He looked out at the distant ocean. “Maybe a little. Sometimes I think about giving up Wolfram and Hart and starting over with you, like it was at the beginning. Just a filing cabinet and those goofy cards you designed.”  
“And my husband? Where does he fit into that?”  
“I miss Wes, too. If I walked away, we could leave L.A. Connor needs someone like you in his life. You missed all that with Greta, but you could be there for him.”  
“A smidge of self-awareness on your part would be amazing right now. Look where we are, how we got here. How can you think I’d go anywhere with you?”  
“Because you love me, Cordi. That doesn’t go away.”  
“Let’s not get into what you did to Wes. Let’s just deal with you and me. You raped me Angel.”  
He leaned back on the swing. “How can you say that when we never...I was never--You’re the one who came onto me, with the breasts and the begging! I tried to do what was in your best interest.”  
“You gave me brain damage so I would get naked and let you go down on me. I’m pretty sure there’s a whole slew of laws against that.”  
“Okay, that sounds bad when you say it like that.”  
“You know why it sounds bad? Because it’s bad. Bad things are bad. No means no. I’m married to another guy means I’m not going to marry you. All very basic stuff you should have got in kindergarten, except you probably didn’t have kindergarten back then. And women were totally chattal. I’m getting away from the point, which is this: I know what’s in my best interests better than you. Think about that the next time you miss me. Think about how you violated me because you assumed I wasn’t smart enough to notice.” 

Cordelia stood up. Angel caught her arm. He took a luminescent cube out of his pocket and pressed it into her hand. “These are his memories. If you break the glass, they’ll return to him all at once.” Angel stood, towering over her. “But if you do that, it could damage him further. Someone with magical abilities can ease the transition. Return them carefully. That’s what you want, right?”

“That, and to live my life without looking over my shoulder.”

“I won’t bother you.”

“What about Greta?”  
“I won’t bother her, either.”

“No, I mean, will she remember us, or did you chop salad her brain, too?”

“She’ll remember you. I’d never let anyone remove her memories; she was subject to the charm like everyone else.”

The door opened with a creak, spilling light on the porch. Wes stood in the doorframe holding the crossbow, the arrow aimed at Angel’s heart.

“I know it’s impolite to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help myself. So you’d never let anyone remove Greta’s memories, or Cordelia’s, but I’m fair game. Why would that be? Is it because you still have a flair for torture? Did it make molesting my wife sweeter after watching my descent into madness all day? I’m sure it hit all the right notes; sadism, mind games, perversion.”

“I’m leaving. Neither of you will ever see me again. I gave Cordi back your memories. It’s over, Wes. I’m sorry.” 

Wesley didn’t budge. “I remember something, something that would come as a surprise to you, I’d imagine. In this dream of mine, our roles were reversed. You stood over me after I’d done something unforgivable. In that case, I’d done it for entirely selfless reasons, unlike yourself. It didn’t make me any less wrong. In my weakest moment of utter helplessness and moral desolation, do you know what you did?”

“Wes, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Wesley spoke over him. “You tried to murder me, because you hated me and because you could. Is that what’s been happening again? A slow suffocation while you took everything from me that mattered? Disassemble my life piece by piece, take the choicest bits for yourself and leave the rest to moulder in the bin?”

“If you’re going to kill me, just do it.”  
“I just want to know if you did the particular things you did to me out of spite, or if you just didn’t care. Was I simply an obstacle to Cordelia, or do you really loathe me as much as your actions proclaim?”  
“I blamed you for losing her, okay.”  
“Angel, you didn’t lose me. You never had me.”  
“Cordi,” he looked down at her, exasperated and she thought he might argue. Instead he got quiet. “I know that now.”  
“Do you? If we put this to rest now, will you come back for us later, when you’ve had another change of heart? Kill me when I can’t fight back and force Cordi to act out the life you think you deserve?”  
“I promise you, when I turn around I won’t be back. It’s all over.”   
“Cordelia, would you mind joining me in the house?”  
She walked over to Wes. He put his arm around her; she could feel his heart thrumming through his chest.  
“Go,” Wesley said.

Angel sighed wearily, his shoulders slumped, before he walked away. They watched him get into his car and drive away. Wesley shut the door. Cordi didn’t want to stop holding him. Their lives felt tenuous despite Angel’s reassurances. Wes didn’t seem to want to let her go, either. Together they walked through the cottage to the bedroom. She took off her own clothes and then undressed him. Wesley looked blankly past her at the window. He held onto the crossbow until the last moment, when it was choking the sleeve of his shirt. She guided him to the bed by the hand. They lied down together, arms woven around one another. Wesley picked up the crossbow again and let it rest across her hip. 

“We’ll contact Willow in the morning. Travel in the day. Others may come looking for us even if Angel has lost the taste for all this.”  
“That sounds smart, Wes. We’ll call Greta, too and warn her. She could be looking for us now.”  
“Yes.”  
They stared at the ceiling for a little while.  
“Cordelia, should I have killed him?”   
“I don’t know,” she said, softly.

**  
Two Days Later

Lila stretched, showing off her bare back to Angel. She knew how to show herself off to maximum effect. 

When he returned from his wild Cordelia hunt, she never expected in a million years they’d end up in bed together, or that it would be any good. But here they were. She’d come into his office for an update, and ended up fucking him in the elevator up to his bedroom, where they went for round two on his California King. She looked out of his penthouse window at the shining lights of the city, dawn a spot of pale blue near the horizon. She peeked at him over her shoulder.

“So what do you think, boss man?”  
“If you mean about what we just did, then not much.”  
“I meant the Wyndam-Pryces.” She sauntered over to him. “Can I close the file, dismiss the nurses? Is it finished?”  
He grabbed her head, weaving his fingers through her curtain of peek-a-boo hair. “It’s completely finished.” He gave her a short, hard kiss.  
“And you’re happy about that?”  
“Perfectly,” he said, as he lowered his lips to her throat. 

The end.


End file.
